


Sands of Time

by CSP2708, Dylan_Walts



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Battle, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Curses, Gen, Historical, Post-The Last Olympian (Percy Jackson), Pre-The Heroes of Olympus, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Swords, Time Travel, World War I
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:21:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 19
Words: 40,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26605894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CSP2708/pseuds/CSP2708, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dylan_Walts/pseuds/Dylan_Walts
Summary: In a fit of rage, Kronos curses Percy before he disappears. The curse, forever tied to Percy, will send him through time at random, and there is no way for him to stop it or is there? Find out in this exciting collaboration between CSP2708 and *Dylan_Walts*
Comments: 19
Kudos: 105





	1. Where I become a Solider

**Author's Note:**

> This story idea came from Fanfiction dot net. Penname I'mJustTryingToFindMyWay https://www.fanfiction.net/u/5380086/  
> I have express permission to use this IDEA. This is BASED ON Percy Jackson and The Power of Right. So this is just me firing back before anyone else would be getting upset on their friend's behalf. You can find my work and CSP2708's work on Wattpad and Even over on Fanfiction dot net. Please look at the Author's note for Sands of time on Wattpad as it provides a picture showing me Asking permission to use this idea. Thank you and enjoy reading

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story idea came from Fanfiction dot net. Penname I'mJustTryingToFindMyWay https://www.fanfiction.net/u/5380086/  
> I have express permission to use this IDEA. This is BASED ON Percy Jackson and The Power of Right. So this is just me firing back before anyone else would be getting upset on their friend's behalf. You can find my work and CSP2708's work on Wattpad and Even over on Fanfiction dot net. Please look at the Author's note for Sands of time on Wattpad as it provides a picture showing me Asking permission to use this idea. Thank you and enjoy reading  
> By the way, Gleek_Demigod on Wattpad has ripped off I'mJustTryingToFindMyWay's story and made it worse, so please don't compare us to that hack either. Because I researched story publishing dates and Gleek Published a year after I'mJustTryingToFindMyWay, did. You can check by looking at comments made. Hopefully this clears any misunderstandings

_"Hey, mom! Guess what I learned today?" the little eight-year-old me cried as he bounced up and down excitedly upon leaving the school. I was wearing a blue striped shirt and some cargo shorts, my backpack dragging behind me. I had been so excited to leave and tell her what I'd learned that day in school that I hadn't even had time to throw it over my shoulder and onto my back before rushing out of the classroom._

_Mom bent down to kneel in front of me once I reached her. She didn't even seem to care that the pavement was digging into her skin and dirtying her work outfit. "What did you learn darling?"_

_She had a bright smile on her face, and, at the time, I hadn't known why she seemed so much brighter that day. Now, I understood that she was thrilled that I'd finally found something that interested me. Before that day, there was nothing that could catch my interest except for our annual trip to the aquarium, and I knew that my mom was worried._

_"Today we went into the library for quiet time and we started reading a story about time travel! The librarian read it to us and everything!" My smile was wide and missing a few teeth, which only seemed to make mom's smile grow._

_"Really, darling? What was this story called?" she asked._

_"The Last Musketeer! It was amazing, mom! You should've been there!" I couldn't sit still as we got back to the car, and mom had to hold me down as she strapped me into my car seat, though she was smiling and laughing the whole time._

_As she strapped herself into the driver's seat, she turned her head to the side slightly to show that she was talking to me. "I'm glad you had fun today, sweetheart. How about this: tomorrow afternoon, we'll go to the library and get you another book. I'll read it to you every night before my night shift. How does that sound?"_

_As a child, I hadn't been able to appreciate what my mom did for me, but I was too excited to really understand the depth of what she was doing for me._

Time travel had always been an interesting concept to me. From the moment I'd first heard of it in the third grade, I was intrigued. Since that day, mom had gone out of her way to check books out of the public library, and together, she'd read a new chapter to me before bed. She never thought that my obsession was strange. Her belief made me feel normal, no matter what the kids at school thought.

I didn't know why these thoughts from my childhood were coming to the forefront of my mind, in the final moments of mine and Annabeth's battle against Kronos. The titan still had Luke Castellan under his spell, but Annabeth was convinced that she would be able to get through to him. I had my doubts that she would manage to defeat the King of the Titans with mere words, but it seemed to be working. A little.

I saw Luke's eyes flash blue for a split second, but then they returned to gold so fast that I almost convinced myself that I'd never seen it. Rage was bubbling up deep within his soul - I could tell by the subtle changes on his face - and I knew that Annabeth would die if she continued what she was doing.

I interjected: "Luke! Look at what you have done. You've killed almost all of the demigods and Thalia is out there fighting for her life right now because of you!" I paused to take a breath as the reality of Thalia's predicament weighed down upon me. My body moved without my approval, numb hands grabbing Annabeth's shoulders and pulling her away from Luke's trembling body.

"You've become no better than the gods in your attempts to distance yourself from their ways. You say that they don't care about their demigod children, that they sentence them to death, but you've done no better. You've killed them with your own blade, and that's something that the gods have never done to their own children. Luke, you wanted the gods to notice us, but at least they haven't enslaved us like Kronos and the Titans will do once they're in power again."

I could tell that my words had hit Luke right in his heart as an indecisive expression crossed his face. Silence overtook us and I finally heard my heartbeat. It was throbbing in my ears, so loud that I was shocked that I hadn't heard it earlier. My whole head felt like it was swelling with blood and my hands and feet felt cold. Luke could choose either of the two extremes. He would either save Olympus or destroy it. Just like the prophecy said. Rachel was right. I wasn't the hero, Luke was. The future of all gods and demigods with depending on this moment.

"Do it for us, Luke," Annabeth voice cut through the silence. She seemed to be struggling to speak, as her voice was croaky and raw. Looking down at her face, I saw that her eyes were red from tears and she had tear trails down her cheeks. "Do it for _family_."

Those words are what set him off. Luke's hand moved faster than I ever thought humanly possible. A dagger flashed - Annabeth's dagger. I acted on instinct, grabbing Annabeth and shielding her with my body - but I didn't need to.

Out of the corner of my left eye, I saw Luke removing his armour, his hands trembling and sweat dripping down his face.

He looked up and met my eyes, blue meeting green, and I understood. _'Take care of Annabeth,'_ his eyes were asking me. I nodded and a smile crossed his face before he plunged the blade into his arm, a mere six inches from his armpit.

His mortal point was a place I'd have never been able to guess, let alone hit. This was the only way to beat him.

I held Annabeth tighter as Luke's body slumped forwards limply. His head was turned sideways, staring at us blankly as the light left his eyes. Afterwards, I blamed the exhaustion for making me hallucinate, but I could see the silhouette of Thanatos hovering over him, ready to guide his soul to the afterlife to be judged. Or, at least, to the DOA Recording Studios so that he could hitch a ride with Charon. The ghostly god of death disappeared and I knew that Luke was gone.

I tightened my grip on Annabeth as she let out a stuttering sob. She was tense in my arms, staring at Luke's stiffening body with a look of pure anguish on her face. My heart clenched in my chest as I felt her sorrow coming off her in waves. She'd known Luke ever since she was seven. He'd become an older brother figure for her, but I knew that she'd come to love him as something more.

My heartbeat, which had been slowing, suddenly picked up again.

Something was wrong.

I could sense the malicious presence of Kronos' soul. It had disappeared the moment that Luke had killed himself, but now it was back. _How was that even possible?_ A loud, raspy voice sounded, echoing throughout the throne room. It seemed to be seeping from the cracks, slipping into my ears like poison. It wrapped around my brain in smoky chains, settling heavily in my head.

 _"Perseus Achilles Jackson!"_ I flinched at the pure rage in the voice. Kronos' voice. _"You have crossed me for the last time! I hereby curse you eternal damnation, forever lost in the river of time! You will never return here and you will never escape my grasp! Everything you know and love will be gone forever and there is nothing you can do to stop it."_ Kronos' voice faded and was replaced by his laughter. Laughter that wormed its way into my brain. I would never be able to forget that sound for as long as I lived. It sent shivers down my spine and raised the hairs all along my body.

I knew I was doomed. His ominous words left little to the imagination.

I felt my soul being ripped from my body as if it was trying to escape its fate. I could not fight it. I saw the air in front of my rippling like a mirage and knew that the curse was taking effect.

"Annabeth..." I whispered as I was pulled from her arms.

"Percy!" she cried. I heard her screams echoing in my ears as I was pulled through the vortex. I didn't want to leave her, not like Luke. Not right after she'd lost him, too, but I had no choice. I couldn't fight it. I was far too tired and the pull was too strong and too inviting.

My body dropped into... something. It was like a river, but instead of giving me strength, the water was draining me. Images flashed through my mind, so fast and so painful that I barely recognized that I was being pulled into the current, instead of with it. _What was happening?_

I barely had time to think before my body flipped. I hit what felt like a boulder and my vision failed. Everything faded to darkness.

* * *

"Get up, soldier!"

Percy jumped up. His body was airborne for a second before he felt his spine make contact with packed dirt. "Ow!" he groaned.

"Get used to it, princess! We're at war. What's a little bruise to a gunshot to the chest?"

That line caused Percy's eyes to snap open. ' _Gunshot wound?'_ he thought. ' _What?'_ He looked up, seeing a man in an army uniform standing over him. ****


	2. Training Sucks

For the first few seconds, I just sat there in shock. My body was stiff as if already prepared for what it knew was coming, but my mind hadn’t caught up just yet. It was still processing everything that was happening, trying to make sense of everything that my eyes were seeing.

It was really happening, though.

I was in a camp - an army camp - dressed in all camo. My head had an ache where it had been resting against a rock and my back felt sore from the rocks and twigs that had been digging into it as I slept.

Was this happening? I’m pretty sure it was, but… How? I’d just been on Olympus, hadn’t I? In New York? Fighting Kronos and Annabeth was injured and Luke was gone and-

Wait.

What _had_ happened on Olympus?

I wracked my brain, trying to find the answer. Seconds later, a gun being thrown my way broke my concentration. So deep in my thoughts, I barely managed to catch it, my fingers tumbling all over the item before I was able to grip it.

Looking down at the gun in my hands, I gawked. In all my life, I hadn’t learned a single thing about guns besides the fact that they were dangerous and they could hurt you, but now, looking down at it, I was amazed to find that information just jumped to mind. With a glance, I named it, as well as all the components, vaguely running through my head how one would take it apart and put it back together.

I knew where the safety release was and where the magazine release was, and of course, I knew how to use it in battle.

How? How could I know everything I needed to know about this weapon? It seemed like the type of power a child of Ares would have, similar to how I named all of the species of fish at the aquarium when my third-grade class went there on a field trip.

Once again, my inner thoughts were interrupted.

“Get up, princess! We’re moving out!” It was the same guy that threw the gun at me.

I didn’t move right away. Apparently, that wasn’t the right reaction because the guy roughly grabbed my arm and heaved me to my feet, then let go as I unceremoniously tried to remain upright. I had just then noticed how heavy all the equipment was. It weighed me down like depression and stank like the boy’s locker room during a heatwave. It also didn’t help that I was already drenched in mud despite having just arrived, - at least, I thought I’d just arrived.

Standing in line with a bunch of other men my age, I had just enough time to notice that we all sort of looked like clones of each other - lanky, tired, and close-shaved.

“Okay, you wimps, we’re gonna whip you into combat-ready shape! Then, we’ll ship ya off to the front with all the rest of the boys out there!” barked the drill sergeant.

At least he was blunt. 

“You pansies were just brought in from the States yesterday due to the draft, and if y’all aren’t ready, we’ll never kick those Nazis back to their hidey-holes in Germany, where they belong!”

My eyebrows nearly soared off my face. Draft? Nazis? Germany? What was going on? Was I in World War II or something? Or was this some alternate universe where the war never ended? 

Thinking back to the history lessons I’d had both at school and at camp, I remembered a key component to World War II. It came to me in an instant. Hitler was a son of Hades. Chiron told me that. Hitler was one of the main reasons the Big Three swore to never have any more children, because he was taken down, only by a son of Poseidon and a son of Zeus working together. Had history changed? Would I be the son of Poseidon who helped to take down Hitler?

Nearly smirking, I thought, now wouldn’t _that_ be something to add to my resume. _Defeated Hitler in World War II with the help of _______, a fellow demigod and also my cousin._

“Role call, now! Get in line over by the flagpole when I call your name,” the drill sergeant said as he pulled out a clipboard and began reading off the names. 

“…Hart, Michael. Ingram, Ralph. Jackson, Perseus…”

As my name was called, I barely held back my shock that I was actually on the list as I made my way over to the other men standing by the flagpole. Some of them shuffled around, seemingly struggling just as much as I was under all the clothing they had on.

When the sergeant called the last name on the roster, he nodded to himself and tossed it to his assistant, who easily caught it. He clapped his hands together. “Now ladies,” he said, addressing us, “We’re gonna have you whipped into shape within a month, or I’ll eat my hat. That means you’d better do well - because I don’t have a hat.”

And so, the gruelling training began.

It was the worst experience in my life, and the worst part about it was that it was prolonged. 

I woke up at oh-six hundred hours every morning - bright and early, ugh. Then, I struggled to get myself to the canteen for some poor excuse for food - mostly just canned beans or turnip loaf. How do they even make bread out of turnips? And why would they _want_ to?

After what no one could call breakfast, we ran drills all day, every day. We crawled with rifles under barbed wire fields, ran laps around the camp until our feet bled, and did endless repetitions of all the exercises I’d ever done - plus a few more I’d never even heard of!

The only interesting part of the training was learning about the guns we used - especially how to avoid being killed by them. Picking up my weapon, which was the M3 .45 calibre submachine gun that had been tossed my way on the first day, I was able to aim and shoot a deadeye shot from fifty metres.

I was genuinely surprised. Give me a bow and arrows and I’d manage to hit the person behind me, but this gun almost felt natural in my hands. Two weeks in and I was hitting targets better than anyone else in camp, including the trainer! How that worked, I’d never know.

Today, in particular, I was looking forward to training. That was because we were learning about melée weapons today. Unfortunately, swords had gone out of style with mortals years ago during the war, but we were learning about bayonets - mostly how to avoid them - and how to gut a man before they could gut us.

Waking up, my eyes stung with sweat and dirt. I hadn’t had a shower since I woke up in this dreadful camp for the first time and grime had collected. I bet that once I finally did get a shower, I’d find dirt in places I never knew dirt could go! Quickly shucking off my sleep clothes, I shrugged on a pair of cargo shorts and a white tank top for training. Side note, the tank top wasn’t actually white, but I assumed that at some point it would have been.

Stopping at the canteen, I grinned as I scored a little bit of jam with my turnip loaf and sat with two others in our group, Andrew and Marcus.

Andrew sat solemnly, slurping his beans like they were the last thing he wanted to be eating - which they probably were. He was giant, and on the first day, I swear I was terrified of him, and even though he reminded me a bit of Ares, he didn’t make me feel angry at all. In fact, he was a really nice guy. He was just sad all the time because his wife and first child were back home and he missed them. I saw a picture one time and since then, I could see why he wanted to get back in a hurry.

Marcus, on the other hand, was the toughest nut you ever did see. His whole body was covered in scars, and that was before he got called to do service in the army. Apparently, he was a street kid growing up. He was most likely a part of some gang or another, but he never really talked about what life was like before coming to the camp, so my knowledge was all just speculation at this point. When he grinned - which was nearly always - I could see his yellowy-black teeth, rotten from years of going without proper dental care. 

For the first few times I saw that sickening smirk, I thought back to Ryan, the dentist back in my time that always tooth care of my teeth. He’d always been the one to give me the sugar-free lollipops. He would’ve been appalled by the state of Marcus’ teeth. Would’ve fainted right then and there.

Once I finished my beans and my loaf - savouring the jam like it was finery, I headed to the latrines. The first week was the most awkward for me, but after a while, using them no longer became an issue.

“All recruits to the west hall!” the speaker croaked.

Drills were about to begin. Meeting up again with Andrew and Marcus, together the three of us walked to the west hall, where we’d finally learn how to _properly_ break someone’s neck. I shivered at the thought. It was bad enough that I knew I’d have to kill people when I went out on the front lines. Doing it with my bare hands would be… life-changing. And not in a good way.

Hopefully, I’d never have to use the knowledge I’d learn today, because it most definitely wasn’t a skill I wanted to break out right away, if ever.

In the last few minutes before entering the hall, I steeled my nerves, amending to myself once again that no matter what I went through here, no matter what I learned, I would never use the skills I would acquire for my own purposes. I was stuck in this time and I would play along until I found out how to fix my situation, but until then, I would remain true to who I was. True to who my mother, father, Chiron, and the rest of my friends taught me to be.

And maybe, one day, I would see them again. After Kronos’ curse ran its course and I could finally go back to the time I belong in.


	3. Lucky or Unlucky?

Commence week three of my stay at the camp from hell. One star, for sure. The food was terrible, the accommodations were horrid, and the workload per day was back-breaking. 

I mean, I knew that joining the army would be no cake-walk, and I knew that the United States had a pretty brutal training regimen, but none of the rumours could prepare me for what it really was. By the end of the second week, I got used to it, but it didn’t mean that I had to like it. Maybe it was the demigod resilience in me, or maybe just something from deep inside me, myself.

All the running, the situps, and the push-ups - drill after drill after drill, I was ready to collapse every night into my designated spot on the ground.

It was just another day. We reached the firing range at oh-six hundred, as per usual to begin our accuracy training. As I levelled my hands, I thought of how I was when I first got to Camp Half-Blood. I hadn’t been able to shoot an arrow to save my life. I still couldn’t, but I’d mastered disassembling and reassembling my weapon of choice - an M3 submachine gun. I knew almost everything about this gun, but occasionally, I’d use a Colt revolver. It was one of the only other guns that felt right in my hands - though I still didn’t know the reason why.

Along with the mastery of those two guns, I was taught close-combat with a knife. I’d picked it up after about the first week, and by now, I’d become the best knife-wielder at the base, topping even our instructor.

That day, oh-thirteen hundred was when it really got interesting. I was marching with the other recruits, my eyes sharp as the sound of evenly stampeding boots echoed in my ears. The drill sergeant was ahead in an open-backed jeep, yelling into a megaphone.

“We’re approached the halfway point!” he yelled. “That means that we’re as close as we’re going to get to the front lines before we ship you out!”

I almost paused. I’d heard this before. The halfway point of our everyday marches was only a couple hundred yards from the front lines. I knew that if I listened hard enough, I’d be able to hear the cracks of sound from the guns in the distance. If only there weren’t any other sounds around me, that is.

“Our army begins just over that hill! Those boys out there are in the real world! Pretty soon, you’ll be joining them so don’t get comfortable! Pick up the pace!”

We had just about turned the corner to head back to camp when the first Nazi came up over the hill. Without thinking, I broke rank and dashed to the jeep.

Before the drill sergeant could even yell at me, I grabbed a submachine gun out of the back and turned it on the Nazi, the poor soul that followed under the evil dictatorship of Hitler.

Spraying down the first line of German soldiers, I dove to the ground, behind a mound of sandbags to avoid their own spray of bullets. Not _soon_ soon, my fellow comrades started firing as well, each with a gun in their hands and rushing forward.

Some ran, only to be shot down either in the chest or the back, depending on whether they were cowards or brave idiots. I stayed where I was, peeking over the mound of sandbags to fire at the invading men, gunning them down easily.

There were still more coming, though.

They were getting too close.

As twenty-six more Nazis hit the dirt, I made a break for it. Dashing over to some drums where a few of the other recruits were taking shelter, I dared not look at them. I knew they were being shot. I knew that some of us wouldn’t make it out. I just couldn’t face the fact of who was going to live and who was going to die. Not yet.

I tossed aside my gun. In one quick movement, the knife was out of its sheath and in my hand, becoming pure destruction at the end of my arm. Getting closer to the German ranks, I began slitting their throats, my knife slicing efficiently through their flesh.

Halfway through the enemy soldiers’ ranks, I felt a sudden burn in my thigh. It spread like an inferno, the pain running up and down my leg and even settling into my belly. Risking a quick look down, I saw blood - a lot of blood - running from my leg.

I’d been shot.

Dropping to the ground, I let out a scream - loud and shrill and pain-filled. It was terrible. Like acid flooding my veins. Like the time I had lava thrown at me - that was a bad day, too.

Everything was suddenly too loud and muffled at the same time. The crackling of machine guns was like lightning raining down. The stomping of boots in the dirt was a stampede of wildebeests. My own ragged breathing - sore and tired - rang in my ears. Through all that, one thought raced through my mind: I couldn’t stop. I would be done for if I stayed on the ground. The only reason I was alive still to have this conversation with myself was because they already thought I was dead, but that wouldn’t last long.

So, digging my fingers into the dirt below me, I unwrapped my fist from around my knife and looked around, pawing for a gun of some sort. Out a stroke of luck - for me, at least - Thompson’s gun was nearby, though still resting in his cold, stiffening hand.

I tried not to think about the dead look in his eyes as I grabbed the submachine gun out of his hand, quickly checking the cartridge. Just my luck, it was still half-full. I’d have to make every bullet count if I wanted to survive this battle and get my friends to safety. Well, as safe as you can be while in the army during a time of war - WWII, in our case.

Without wasting time, I dove behind another mound of sandbags and barbed wire, taking in the scene. There were only fifteen men left on their side out of the original hundred fifty or so.

Raising my gun, I begin to shoot. One man got a bullet in the kneecap. He went down. Another, in the brain. Another, in the chest. I just kept shooting and shooting, not even taking my finger off the trigger. Subconsciously, I felt a wave of concern for the state my shoulder would be in later, after having to absorb the shock of the gun, but I couldn’t worry about it now.

As the last German soldier fell, I used my borrowed weapon as a crutch. Walking through the field of corpses, I saw both enemy soldiers and the bodies of my dead friends. I didn’t know all of them well. Only well enough to name them as I saw them. To replay images of the time we spent together as I knelt beside each of them, closing their eyes.

Those that were still alive, I helped them to stand and carried them over to the jeep, where, surprisingly, a medic team had arrived and set up. The drill sergeant must’ve radioed them sometime earlier. They sure got here quick, it was about a five-mile journey.

Slowly, I hobbled over to the German soldiers that were still alive, yet writhing on the ground from their injuries. We’d be able to question them, at least. They might not know much, due to their rank, but I had to hope that they would have  _ some _ information that would be of use to the allies.

Approaching the soldier I’d shot in the knee, my heart rate increased. He had a bird patch on his uniform - the mark of a high-ranking officer. It truly was my lucky day! Picking him up, I dragged him back over to the jeep.

The drill sergeant, one of the only dozen men to survive the battle, smiled as he saw the Nazi that I was carrying. He came over and clapped me on the shoulder, hard enough that I staggered, my knees nearly giving out beneath me. Now that my adrenaline was wearing off, I could once again feel the dreadful pain of the gunshot wound in my leg. I knew that if it wasn’t treated soon, they’d have to amputate and I would most likely never get home from this hell.

“Good work, soldier!” the drill sergeant congratulated me. “Now get yourself patched up. I’ll deal with this guy.”

Nodding feverishly, I stumbled over to the medics, dropping the enemy soldier as I went. As soon as I sat down on the back of the jeep, Jenny - one of our medics - came over and starting patching me up. She applied an ungodly amount of alcohol on the wound, pulling out the bullet and cleaning the hole thoroughly. Once she was done, she stitched me in record time, only giving me a leather strap to bite down on.

Pretty soon, I was on my feet again, a patch of white contrasting greatly with my muddy training uniform.

“You’re lucky,” Jenny said, and she supported me to sit in the jeep.

“How so?” I asked. I gave a groan as my butt hit the padded seats.

“The bullet went in but didn’t hit anything important. No arteries have been punctured, and it was centimetres away from hitting your femur, but didn’t.,” she explained, “Like I said: lucky.”

I let out a harsh laugh. Yes, I was lucky. Unlike the other sixty men in our squad that didn’t make it. “Yeah. I guess I am.”

Later, when we got back to base camp and the sergeant explained what happened, I was commended. 

I didn’t want to be.

What I’d done was selfish - only looking out for myself in survival and leaving the others to die. Sure, I’d killed the last of the Nazis when all the others were incapacitated, but that meant that I’ killed a dozen lives to save a dozen, and I’d killed way more than a dozen Nazis.

Nonetheless, I was given a badge to wear on my uniform and named a Staff Sergeant - something I wished I knew what it was, but didn’t. Well, I guess I’d have to figure it out soon because I was headed straight for the front lines. 

When? 

Within the week. It would be great fun.


	4. Kidnapped (Saved?) from War

My first order of command had me plunked down on the front lines, a few troops around me. They told me that these troops were mine, but I couldn’t really process that until the men all stared at me with expectation in their eyes.

That was when it hit me. I was fighting in World War II and these men were mine to lead into the fray of the front lines. I also had to make sure they didn’t run out of ammo, and they didn’t die, and they all got home to their families safe and sound. Oh gods. This would be terrible.

I mean, storming into Poland with forty or so men armed to the teeth following behind me wasn’t bad, but I felt weighed down by my equipment, and I could only imagine how some of the others felt. I, at least, was used to wearing the heavy metal armour from camp, so this stuff wasn’t much, but there were men - boys - behind me that were even thinner than I had been when I first entered the camp, and I had been _twelve_ at the time!

Our first order of business was liberating a small town just past the enemy lines. It was overrun with Nazis, and I was even more determined to save the poor townspeople from them once I found out how they were being treated. They had to constantly hide the good food, hoping that they wouldn’t get caught, because they had to serve the German soldier whatever they wanted, but were unable to charge them. Most small businesses around the town had already gone out of service, and the Nazis had taken over their houses, thrusting them out to live on the streets during the cold nights.

I felt the cold earth seep into my uniform as I lay on a hill, a pair of binoculars pressed to my face. I watched the Nazis - about one hundred thirty of them - swarm the town like a disease. Right then and there, my mind had been made up - they must go.

Standing up and approaching Warsaw, I stopped behind the hills to rally my troops. “Men, today we fight the forces of evil! That town must be liberated from their tyranny and the German influence! Today we’re going to fight for our freedom and the freedom of others. Let’s show these Nazi jerks why our country is the land of the free and the brave!” I roared.

A similar roar rose from the troops as they yelled back a hearty “Yeah!”

As we marched up the hill, I brought out my gun. Looking through the scope, I saw three groups of Nazis, about twenty each, that had separated from the rest in the town. I smile.d We could easily take these down.

Signalling to my troops, I gestured for them to divide and conquer.

The sharpshooters moved in first, getting into position and taking down the troops. As soon as the first Nazi fell, they all scattered, leaving an easy opening for my troops and myself to rush in for an ambush.

I’d lost count of how many men had fallen to my gun a long time ago, but now, I could count at least twelve. The other eight were killed as well, and we continued on our way, moving in on the rest of the town. 

We advanced, met with little resistance as it was still the early hours of the morning. Whenever we came across a family of homeless townsfolk, I ordered a soldier to lead them to safety. Now moving forward with only thirty-two of my original forty men remaining.

Each step for me was a dull thud, as all I could hear was my heartbeat, matching perfectly, with each time my boot hit the frozen dirt.

The first squadron of Nazis came around the corner and immediately set after us, guns blazing. I winced as we took them down. If the others weren’t awake already, that certainly would have woken them up. It wouldn’t be long now before they all came out of their houses.

Not five minutes later, it seemed as if the rest of the Nazis had appeared. They swarmed around us like an infestation of cockroaches, falling and rising in waves as we shot them down, only for more to take their place in the melee. Round after round of bullets and I was still firing, ducking behind houses and cars as both sides shot at one another across the small courtyard in the centre of the town.

As soon as only twenty Nazis remained, it seemed that they got the message, as they tried to call a retreat. We couldn’t let that happen. We couldn’t take the chance that they would just take over another town, or rally their troops, or go and tell the head officers what they knew. This was war. And in war, there are no survivors.

As I began to shoot at their retreating backs, I saw one soldier run into an alleyway, separate from the others. Leaving my troops to deal with the remaining Nazis, I followed that one into the narrow space between the two buildings, determined not to let him get away.

A bullet soared through the air, hitting him in the back. He fell, and I smiled despite knowing that I had just taken a life. Then, my smile turned to a frown. What had the war done to me? I was happy to have killed someone?

I couldn’t dwell on that for long as I felt a sudden sharp pull from my left. Turning, my eyes widened as there was a vortex floating at the side of the building, swirling mysteriously. I knew what this was. It was the same portal that Kronos had sent me through before I’d landed in this hell. Maybe, since I’d done what I’ve been sent here to do, I can go home.

I made sure that my backpack was fastened securely on my back, holding my gun, which had just turned back into Riptide - as it had been disguised to suit the location - and happily jumped through the portal. I really hoped that it would take me home.

With that thought in mind, I felt nothing, heard nothing, and saw nothing. It all went dark as I was swallowed by the inky blackness of the portal.

 ******* **  
**


	5. The Hot God of Fire

The portal seemed endless as I travelled down it, though I had no sense of time. I had no senses whatsoever. No sound, no touch, no smell, no taste, no sight. It was just absolute nothingness all around me. 

Suddenly, a bright light shone from far in the distance - what I assumed to be the exit of the wormhole. Excitement filled my veins. Was this it? Was I finally going to go home to Annabeth, Grover, and all of my other friends? Was I finally going to be back home?

I squinted as the light grew to become almost blinding in a matter of seconds. I could almost feel my pupils contracting if the sharp sting was any indication. I was already used to the darkness of the portal, and even if this light was dim to anyone else, it was like Apollo’s smile turned directly at my face.

My exit of the portal was less than graceful as I tumbled out onto the dusty ground. Or, at least, it felt dusty. My eyes were still closed, but I could feel the dryness of the dirt under my fingers and I nearly choked on the air. Coughing, I rubbed my eyes and blew my nose into my sleeve to clear my lungs and throat of the airborne debris.

Slowly opening my eyes, I looked around. It was a barren landscape, but there were a few bushes and a few trees and… was that a man? Lifting my head higher to get a better look, I saw that, indeed, there was a man walking towards me in what appeared to be an ancient Greek chiton?

Oh, no. I wasn’t back home, was I? Had I gone further into the past? Was my next jump going to be the Jurassic period?

Shaking my head, I forced myself to stop thoughts of further time jumps. Right now, I had to focus on where I was, and most importantly, when I was. The man approached easily, looking tall and proud with broad shoulders and well-defined muscles. He began to speak almost immediately, and I thanked all those sessions of learning ancient Greek with Annabeth that let me understand him. It also didn’t hurt that ancient Greek was almost natural for my brain.

“Hello, young demigod. Have you come to help us in our war against the giants?”

The stream of ancient Greek that came from between his lips was almost so old that I lost track of what he was saying, but my mind was able to piece it together before I even told it to. 

Sitting there, I must’ve looked dumbfounded, so I just nodded along with what he was saying. “Y-yeah. Yes, I am. I’m here to help you fight the giants.” The words were coming from my mouth before I could process them, and even after I closed my mouth again, I couldn’t believe what was saying. The giants? As if, the first giant war?

The man smiled, flashing his perfect teeth. He looked just like a god, but not like any I recognized from my time. “Good!” he bellowed, “Very good!”

“But, uh…who are you? Sir?” I added the last bit as an afterthought.

“You don’t recognize me, boy?” the man inquired whilst arching one of his heavy eyebrows. Within the mess of his beard, his lips pursed in a slight frown, as if he was almost insulted that I didn’t know who he was. Definitely a god, then. Or a well-known hero of the time.

I shook my head with a small-sounding “No, sir.”

He then let out a deep, bellowing laugh, “Why, my boy, I am Hephaestus! Surely you recognize me, now?”

I startled jerkily, astounded. He looked nothing like the Hephaestus from my time. That Hephaestus was covered in scars, his head was deformed, and his skin was almost black with soot from his constant work in the forge. I’d never known a god to be scarred, but with him, it always seemed like a given. Now seeing him fresh and clean of any and all marks, he seemed unreal, like someone had gone over him with an airbrush one too many times.

I must’ve been staring, because he suddenly shouted, “What are you staring at, boy?”

My answer was something stupid, like, “Didn’t Hera throw you off Olympus?” I mentally slapped myself as soon as I heard the words coming out of my mouth.

His frown returned, only deeper than before. “Yes, she did.” he scratched at his thick beard. “So, why’re you staring?”

I knew that I was digging myself deeper into my hole, but I continued by saying, “Shouldn’t you be all deformed, then? I mean, a fall like that…shouldn’t you be a little worse for wear?” My voice grew smaller and smaller all the while as young-Hephaestus’ frown grew deeper. He obviously wasn’t pleased with my inquiries.

He answered nonetheless. “Well, I did, but luckily I have so many mortals worshipping me that I am constantly healing. They keep me looking this great.” He gave a wide grin, showing off his perfectly white, straight teeth.

I was about to continue with my next question but held it back on my tongue as the sound of an intricate march approach. It was a march so in sync that it could only mean one thing: an oncoming army. Whether they were friend or foe, I didn’t know, but by the way Hephaestus’ smile fell, I was led to believe that it was the latter.

Pushing the god behind me, I quickly drew my sword and ran forward to greet them. Rows upon rows of hellhounds stomped towards me, somehow, their steps perfectly aligned. Behind them were laistrygonian giants, and behind them stood their leader. Well, it didn’t look like much of a leader, especially with those chicken legs of his.

In my hand, Riptide was a whirlwind, my slashes and thrusts each meeting their mark on a monster and banishing their souls back to Tartarus. I had made it about halfway through the army, cutting down every monster in my path when the chicken-legged man decided to speak.

“Hephaestus! I know you are there! Come out from behind your demigod and face your doom!” he boasted. “Your death shall come by my hand, for I am Mimas!”

Oh. So that’s what his name was. Wow. Unfortunately for me, I voiced my disappointment. He didn’t seem to like that.

“You! Demigod! You dare to insult me? I am Mimas! You shall bow at my feet! You shall tremble at the very mention of my name!”

“Yeah, not today, buddy!” I called up at him, still slicing through his ranks as if they were made of cotton candy. Closing my eyes for a split second, I regained my focus. Everything around me sharpened, and I concentrated on the water molecules in the air, creating huge storm clouds above even the giant’s head.

Rain poured down, the water at my bidding as each droplet sharpened into knives, stabbing the monsters where they stood. I knew it wasn’t enough to destroy them, but at least it kept them occupied long enough for my attacks to kill them.

As all the monsters disintegrated into fine golden powder, I walked through eh carnage towards Mimas. To the naked eye, my movements would’ve been blurred, but to me, everything seemed to be in high-definition. The rainwater gave me an extra boost, making my ability to fight ten times better than it usually was - which, I have to admit, had improved greatly after my time in the army.

I slashed at the giant, and he stumbled back. None of my attacks would kill him - I knew that much - because it took a demigod and a god working together to destroy one, but I also knew that Hephaestus was right behind me, ready and waiting to take his shot.

Unfortunately, Mimas knew how to fight back. He swung at me for the second time since I’d begun fighting him, and, blocking with Riptide, I managed not to be sawed in half. A downside to this method, however, was that he was much,  _ much _ stronger than I was, and the force sent me backwards and into the ground, fifty feet away from my previous position.

Riptide was gone from my hands, and while I knew that eventually, it would return to me, I couldn’t risk waiting that long. Quickly scavenging my outfit for weapons, I cursed as all I came up with were a few knives from the war. They wouldn’t do anything against a giant. Even if they were bigger than just little bayonets, they were made of mortal steel and would not even make a dent in Mimas’ defences.

I guess I had no choice. Summoning all my strength, I collected water from the rain and fashioned it into a blade. Droplets spilled from it, but the water never seemed to run out as the rain revitalized it even as it fell apart. I cringed. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do.

My feet moved like the wind as they carried me to his ankles, and, with a jump, I stabbed him in the back of the knee, hanging above the ground slightly and letting gravity pull me and my blade down the giant’s calf. He cried out, lifting his chicken leg and stomping it into the ground in hopes of shaking me loose. It worked, and the break in my concentration made the sword disintegrate, but I’d done my damage.

Hephaestus took his shot, stabbing the giant in the chest with a blade of his own design, the metal glinting maliciously as it tore into the god’s opponent’s flesh, easily cutting through his armour as if it was putty.

Mimas fell, and Hephaestus landed back on the ground, looking quite pleased with himself. I smiled. I almost began to celebrate our victory, but it was a little too soon.

I gasped, my body giving a sudden jolt.

Looking down, my eyes widened in horror as I saw the tip of a long, sharp blade sticking through my right side. The giant, in a final, desperate act, had stabbed blindly with his sword as he fell, cutting cleanly through the entire right side of my body, including disconnecting my rib bones.

Afterward, he fell to the ground, disintegrating as all his monsters had, but I joined him soon after, having lost too much blood. Just as my head was about to meet the solid dirt, I was caught and looked up to see the god leaning over me, concern etched across his face. 

His lips were moving and he seemed to be saying something to me, but everything was muffled. His voice was just a panicked buzz over me. I smiled in my confusion. What was he saying? Was I dying? Was I going to die, now, after everything I’ve been through?

Hmmm…I really hoped that the Underworld in this time had good ghoul grub. It would be a real disappointment if, after all this time, I went there for real and didn’t enjoy the food that I would be eating for the rest of eternity.

If I didn’t die, I was definitely having a talk with Hades about it.


	6. It's Like Seeing Quadruple

Waking up after that felt like being reborn. Now, I don’t remember what it was like being born in the first place, but I’m guessing that - from how sciency people explain what it’s like - this was exactly it.

Everything was bright, like, too bright, and I squinted, crying out in a long groan to tell someone to turn it off. I felt cold, too, as if I’d been wrapped in a warm embrace, a blanket of comforting arms, only to have it ripped away from me by the hands of Boreus himself. But what I really couldn’t stand was the noise. It was so loud, music and talking and the stomping of feet were everywhere; I couldn’t stand it! It only made me groan louder, my own voice rising in my ears until it drowned out the world. I heard just a single note and it was from my own vocal cords. It was nice.

When I finally managed to open my eyes, and the world didn’t seem too cold or loud, my senses were immediately filled with gold. Gold walls, gold trim, gold countertops, gold window frames. There was even a gold tint in the glass! That was the clue that told me I wasn’t dead. Apollo’s palace was the only palace that could be so flamboyant. Besides, this level of flashy gold clashed with Hades’ curtains, so that was out of the question.

Next question: how was I not dead? My previous memories were slowly coming back, and if I wasn’t mistaken, I should be dead. Right? I was stabbed, bleeding out everywhere. The world faded from me - it really felt like I was dying. Had I just passed out? But if so, why would Apollo save me? Perhaps I should have a talk with Hades sometime. Or, maybe even Thanatos, or the Fates, considering they would be more directly involved in my death.

I would’ve chuckled to myself if it didn’t burn my insides, because I must’ve made someone up here happy, or perhaps just angry at some point. How else could anyone explain my crazy luck? Or… misfortune? Considering my dismal existence of never-ending pain. That’s okay, though! I’m fine! Totally fine! I’d prefer life over standing in Hades’ realm for millennia. Now  _ that _ would be a dismal existence! 

Looking up from my thoughts, I saw that Apollo must’ve walked into the room at some point, because he was standing at the end of my bed with a clipboard, just staring at me. Curiosity reigned his features, spoiling the brilliant smile he usually wore with a look of confusion.

“What?” I snapped. I forgot completely about being polite, because… well, I’m not really sure. It must’ve been some combination of my own jumbled brains and his impolite staring and maybe even a little bit of my annoyance at his over-the-top decorating. If he was offended, he certainly didn’t show it.

“Well, it’s just curious how you appeared just in time to stop a marching army,” he said offhandedly.

“I’m not a spy is that’s what you think,” I growled out, hissing as pain overtook my right side. Gods! Why did it still hurt? I guess even Apollo had his limits as the god of healing.

He smiled down at me, all white teeth and dimples. I guess he’s also the god of truth, so maybe he believed that I wasn’t lying. That’s good. I wouldn’t know what to do if they continued thinking I was a spy or something. I almost laughed at the thought. Me working for the giants? Please! I scoffed.

“Great news,” Apollo said, “Then I guess once you’re all healed we can send you off to the camp for demigods that we have. It’s still in the early stages, but I’m sure you’ll fit right in. Son of Poseidon, right?” Apollo smirked as I nodded. “Good. You sure look like one, but he insists that he has no idea who you are. He’s never seen you before, but says he’ll take you under his wing anyway.”

I nodded again. That’s good. At least I’d have a place to settle in and get a hold of the new era I was just dropped in on. Maybe in this one, it wouldn’t be such a crazy idea to tell them about my curse; maybe they could even help me to understand it.

I might also be able to learn some tips and tricks while I’m here. Theseus would probably hold a good conversation. And I’d finally have some siblings, too! Tyson’s great, really, but I’ve always wondered what it would be like to have real, demigod brothers and sisters. People with my powers, all working together to master them, together.

And Orion - blasted brother of mine - might be a total jerk, but he’s sure good at archery, and maybe he’ll give me some tips on how not to suck at it.

“Sure, Lord Apollo,” I replied, remembering to add in the ‘lord’ part this time. “Send me to camp.”

* * *

Seconds later, I appeared in a white room. The walls were drapes of white sheets, and the floors were wood. Around me, a still army of cots dressed in white linens stood. No one was there, but I did see a few bodies across the way from me - sleeping people. There was a distinct stench of medicinal herbs, which quickly brought me to the conclusion that I was in the camp’s infirmary.

I tried to stand, but once again found my side burning. I stopped, fearing that I’d pull my stitches if I tried any more. I still couldn’t believe that I let than giant get in such a lucky shot. I should’ve been it. I mean, how could I have left myself open like that?

Even though I was healing - quite quickly in fact, because Apollo had the foresight to soak my feet in saltwater for an extra boost - I couldn’t stop the battle from replaying in my mind. The images were flashing like an old video, so clear that they almost blocked out my vision, but just enough that I didn’t notice when several people came in. One pushed aside one of the many curtains that hung along the walls, which must’ve been the door because when I finally looked up, it was because of a cough. Someone had cleared their throat.

My jaw nearly dropped, but I refrained, knowing that I had to keep up appearances. Mentally, I patted myself on the back for holding my reaction, because standing in front of me were seven people who looked  _ very _ familiar, even though I’d only seen them in history books. I couldn’t trust my memory at this point though, so I decided to ask, just to make sure.

“Who are you? What do you want?” I tried to sound polite, but my voice was still strained. Everything was strained. Even breathing.

“As we understand it, you’re our newest brother,” said the oldest one. “I’m Theseus. That one there is Orion-” he pointed to the tall one in the back with an elegant-looking longbow “-and those two are Agenor and Neleus. We’re all children of Poseidon, here to train under Chiron.”

The other two - one with outlandishly curly hair and the other had his long and drawn back into a thick braid.

With a secret smile, I nodded, reaching out to shake each of their hands. There were statues of these men in my father’s palace - in his main hall. They were different than I remember, but I guess that’s because the statues had become home to bright, living coral and tiny little fish. They are looked similar to me - that was our father’s influence, no doubt - but unlike me, they had perfectly bronzed skin and were the epitome of Greek perfection. I was a bit paler and much more American in my nose and jawline.

“Nice you meet you all,” I said, quite honestly in fact, because I’d never known any half-blood siblings before and really wanted to get off on the right foot with these four. “I’m…” I stopped. Should I say my name? These four all lived before the original Perseus, so it wouldn’t be an issue, but would my name be? What if I said my name, and then whenever Zeus came around to sire the original Perseus, would he even be named that? Then… if he wasn’t named Perseus, would I even be named that? Would it create a time paradox? I could say my name in the war because probably no one would remember me, but here, in a camp with so many of the famous Greek heroes of legend, it was almost certain that I’d get my likeness sculpted at some point, and it might even alter the course of history. 

I looked up. The four of them seemed to be waiting.

“...Percival, but call me Percy.”

Theseus grinned. “Nice to meet you, Percy!” He shook my hand again, rather vigorously. “I guess we’ll  _ sea _ you around, then Percy. Heal up!”

As they left, I was startled by Theseus’ pun. They had those, even now? And Theseus used them? Oh gods, this just got a whole lot more interesting.

It was a few days before I was fully healed, but by the time I was, Theseus offered to let me join their sparring practice, which I wholeheartedly agreed to. Who wouldn’t want to spar with heroes of legend? Of course, I didn’t tell him that; they probably weren’t famous for whatever they were famous for yet.

I headed to the arena, knowing where it is thanks to the tour that Chiron - young Chiron! - happily gave me as a new student of his. I was wearing Greek robes, which were a little itchy and strange to get used to - as I’d never worn them before except in that dream I’d had in that Lamborghini a few years ago… or what it thousands of years in the future? Argh! Time travel isn’t really what it's all chalked up to be, at least in some things.

When I got there, my brothers were waiting. 

“Hey there, Percy!” Neleus called. His voice was a bit gruff, despite him being a similar age to me, but I guess that’s to be expected; he’s  _ way _ buffer than me. Like, he could easily be the quarterback on a football team.

“You want to spar?” Theseus asked.

I nodded.

“Alright.”

We got into position, just about to fight when I realized my biggest problem. I couldn’t use Riptide. For the same reason as me saying my name, I couldn’t bring out my sword. I mean, it would probably change into a smaller shape that would fit the time period, but I couldn’t use it. Everyone knows Hercules’ sword. If I suddenly had an exact double, things would get weird.

“Can I borrow a sword?” I asked awkwardly.

The four of them looked a little confused but complied. “Don’t you have your own, though?” Neleus asked as he handed me a sword. “You fought the giant with it, yeah?”

I shrugged. “It’s broken. I had to switch to a water sword about halfway through.” It was a white lie, to be sure, but a good one. At least… I hoped it would fool them.

It did.

After the duel - which I lost, but oh well - I’d slipped up that I didn’t ever use a bow, and Orion had all but dragged me over to the archery range to show me how to do it. “All you need to know is how to stand. Then the rest falls into place,” he declared.

“Not even Artemis could show me how to shoot straight, Orion, I swear,” I protested, but he was having none of it.

“No brother of mine will not know how to shoot a bow. At least hit the target, and we’ll be done here.”

I groaned, but took the bow anyway, and got into the position that Chiron had shown me all those years ago. Orion inspected me, judgingly, but didn’t say anything. He walked all the way around me before getting into position behind me and saying, “Draw an arrow and place it on the string, but don’t pull back.”

I did as he asked.

With even more silence, he watched, then told me to draw back and fire.

The arrow shot - straight and true - all the way over the target and into the trees behind. I hung my head in shame as the others, watching from the sidelines, all hollered with laughter. Orion was the only one who stayed silent.

“Go and fetch it,” he said after a minute of silence. “Then come back here and I’ll show you what you’re doing wrong. We’ll fix your stance, then your posture, then your shooting.”

“Shooting comes last?” I asked, pausing in my stride.

He nodded. “Shooting always comes last.”

I shrugged and took off running into the forest to collect the arrow. It took a bit of searching, but thankfully, so many arrows had been shot into the woods that they knew to paint them brightly as to find them more easily. On my way back, I thought of my siblings. I knew Theseus was a great hero, and Agenon and Neleus were pretty cool, but I was most concerned about Orion.

He was in the myths as an excellent archer, sure, but he was also said to be a womanizer and a terrible person after what he did to that girl. I wanted to give him a chance, as he is my brother, and I couldn’t punish him for something he had yet to do. That would be unfair, not only to him but to myself as well. What if, in treating him like an outsider, I caused his actions? I’d seen a lot of movies on time travel in my youth, but most of them handled it differently, so how could I know if my past self had already travelled this plane, or if I’m the first and could change everything for better or for worse. Did I already exist in these timelines, or not?

When I was back at the archery range, I got back into my shooting position like Orion asked, and then let myself be nudged back and forth. 

“Your position is standard, and pretty good compared to most, but it doesn’t always work for everyone. Some people need to have a completely different position of their feet and arms to even be able to shoot straight,” he explained. He nudged my foot back a bit and held my arms straight, making a line from my shoulder directly at the target.

Once he was done fiddling, he told me to get comfortable, stand straighter, and wait. I had to get used to this position, just so that if I moved, I’d be able to get back into it. I couldn’t have him come to fix my stance every time I shot an arrow, now could I?

After a while, I thought I was ready, and drew an arrow. I took a few seconds, but eventually got back into the same position Orion put me in, and drew the arrow back, letting his calloused hands guide my arm back - straight, not at an angle - and then, he let go.

With one eye on the target and the other closed, I let go of the string. And… it whistled out into the forest again. With a sigh, I fetched it again, and again, and again. Three more tries and I still couldn’t hit the target, but I was getting better, Orion was slowly adjusting my stance every time, and I was a fast learner, though I admit a few times, I slipped back into an older position before he pointed it out.

I was starting to get tired, but forced myself to stay awake, eyes probably bloodshot and crossed from staring at a target all day. My other brothers were still sitting on the side, watching with amusement in their eyes. How was this not old yet?

In my head, I told myself that this was the last time I’d shoot today, even if Orion insisted I keep going until I hit the target. I let go of the string.

_ Thud! _

My eyes both shot open wide in disbelief. I was suddenly wide awake. I hit the target! The outermost ring, but I still hit it! My jaw hung wide open for a split second before I leapt into the air and danced in celebration.

My joy was short-lived, however, as just at that moment, Chiron cantered over to us. “The Lady Hera has been kidnapped!” he announced. “Everyone to the meeting hall. We must send out a quest.”

We quickly followed him, and soon joined about six dozen other demigods in a large hall, not dissimilar to the dining pavilion back home. Once everyone was present, Chiron brought forth a young girl - probably the oracle if my memory of tradition stood. I was proven correct as she opened her mouth and spewed forth the familiar green smoke, speaking in a serpentine voice.

_ A hero walks, not of this time _

_ Goes forth without reason nor rhyme _

_ His true purpose here is not yet known _

_ But he cannot make this journey alone _

_ To the queen, he goes, to free her from chains _

_ Cannot succeed until he faces his bane _

Theseus immediately volunteered to take the quest. His daring spirit spurred him forth, despite the dangers that lie ahead. For me, hearing the words was like having ice water dumped over my head. This quest was for me, yet again. I almost sighed, if not for the people around me. I knew I had to volunteer, but this time, I wouldn’t be left behind. Without telling my body to do so, I shot up as well, volunteering to go.

Orion laughed wholeheartedly. “Brother, you’ve just learned to shoot an arrow. While I admire your enthusiasm, I doubt you could bring anything to this quest that Theseus can’t already. Some gods have children with separate skill sets, but two sons of Poseidon with the same skills cannot go on the same quest.”

With that, Orion volunteered as an archer, as well as another hero whom I didn’t know the name of. I grumbled lowly. It was my quest - that much seemed clear to me - but I couldn’t really tell them that. How would I even word it? “Oh, hey, I’m actually a demigod from the future, when Kronos escapes again and I defeated him, and I released Typhoon from a volcano by accident, and I defeated Hyperion, and so on and so forth.” No.

Well, if they wouldn’t let me go, I’d just have to sneak out again. It seemed pretty easy, especially after the last time. There were no harpies here to eat me for being out after hours so how hard could it be?


	7. It's My Quest, Too

The camp was nothing like he knew it would be, but the general layout was the same, so after his two brothers and the other demigod, Darius, left for their quest, Percy decided to head back to his father’s cabin. 

It was perfect. Upon entering, he let the salty scent of the sea wash over him, and it filled his nose with a comfortingly familiar burn. The beds were all draped with sheets of various shades of blue, and the curtains that hung at each of the windows were the same. The walls themselves were made of coral, like the current Poseidon cabin back in his own time, and the floor, thank heavens, was made of smooth birch wood to fit the colour scheme. It was delightfully soft against Percy’s bare feet as he walked in.

The beds were all singles, not bunk beds like back home, but plain, soft beds with feather mattresses, it appeared. Four of them had personal belongings on and around them, so he assumed they were taken, and let his eyes wander to the six remaining beds in the cabin. They were empty, void of anything identifying, and just waiting to be claimed.

His remaining two brothers, Agenor and Neleus, weren’t there, so they must’ve gone back to the training grounds. With the much-needed silence, Percy laid down for a nap.

* * *

His dreams were filled with visions of Hera, his father, the giants, and his brothers on their quest. Mostly, however, it focused on the queen of the gods, trapped in a cage of glowing bronze bars. Celestial bronze, most likely. She was slumped in the bottom, more drained than he’d ever seen her before, and shivering in her embroidered white dress as she camouflaged like a graceful swan against the swirling snow.

Percy looked around. He felt a chill run down his spine, not only from the frosty air blowing past him but also from the dark hordes of monsters crowded in clusters around the queen. They cast dark shadows from their campfires, roasting what appeared to be human flesh on spits, but he couldn’t be certain.

“Where are you?” he asked, squinting in the distance. He was trying to make out any distinguishable features of the land, maybe an ocean, or city, or shrine, but saw nothing. The mist was too thick as it encompassed them in a cloak of white.

At his words, Hera looked up. “Young demigod,” she said, her voice raspier than he’d ever heard.

He approached, slowly, cautiously, as to avoid being spotted - if he even could in this dream - by the monsters or their masters.

He bowed just outside her cage. “My lady,” he said, head down.

“No need for that now, in my current state,” she replied, lifting her hands which were wrapped in similarly glowing chains. “You must find me. The prophecy is about you, after all.”

I looked up, surprised. “How did you know that?”

She just laughed. “You think I couldn’t tell that you came out of one of my father’s portals before aiding my son in his battle? And of course, my brother not recognizing you as one of his sons, while you most obviously are. It’s only clear that you are the one the prophecy speaks of.”

“But how do you know of the prophecy, it was only foretold today, and you have been imprisoned.”

“Do not underestimate my power, young one. I do not know from which future time you come from but know this: now, we are at the greatest we have ever been. The humans worship us as they should. They offer only the best of their meals as sacrifices, and in return, we give blessings to their fields, and homes, and livestock. Even in this state, I am far more powerful than I look.”

“My lady, I’m probably going to wake soon, but my plan is to leave the camp and follow the three on their quest. Where should I be headed? Where are we?”

Hera sighed. “Alas, I do not know, young one. We are at a mountain peak, and on clear nights, I know that we are north, but that is all I can say. We are still in Greece, that much is clear from the power this soil holds, but which of its many peaks we are on, I know not.”

Percy felt himself being pulled away, It was just a subtle tug, at the back of his toga, like someone had grabbed a hold of him. “I’m to leave soon. Be safe, my lady.”

“How safe can I be in this wretched place? My life force is waning, though ever so slowly. Hurry to my rescue, young one, and you shall be rewarded.”

“I don’t do this to be rewarded,” Percy admitted. “I’ve been awarded enough to last a lifetime, and I don’t want any more of it.”

“Then why do you plan to follow your brothers on their quest? Surely not because it is your prophecy?”

Percy paused for a moment, trying to think of the right words. “I’m doing this because it’s right. Because it’s what Annabeth would want me to do. Even though you aren’t her favourite goddess, she wouldn’t leave you here to be held captive by these gruesome creatures.”

“Annabeth? Your loved one, I take it?”

A smile graced his lips. “Yes. At least, I hope so. We never got the chance to really talk about how we felt. We shared a single kiss, but only because she thought I was about to die. Then, after that, everything was so crazy…” He paused, thinking of the war against Kronos and his Titan brethren. He shivered.

Suddenly, the tug turned into a harsh yank, and Percy fell back several feet from the goddess. “I will be back, my lady!” he cried before being pulled away from the mountain altogether, thrust into a dark place for a split second, where he heard Kronos’ cruel laughter, then he was sitting up, eyes wide. He was back in his cabin, in his bed, with his brothers standing over him.

“Percy?” asked Neleus. “Are you alright? You were having a nightmare.”

I shrugged off his hand. “Just a vision. Demigod dreams, you know?”

They looked at me blankly.

“You’ve never had them?” I asked, confused.

Both shook their heads. Wow. The life of a demigod must be great in these times. No dreams, no worry about dyslexia. No worry about hiding your true self from everyone else in your life. Then again, the monsters were a lot stronger, or at least, that’s what I assumed, seeing as it was such a big deal whenever someone slew it.

“Anyway, we just in to go to bed. You missed dinner, but seeing as you were tossing and turning, we just wanted to make sure you were okay before turning in for the night,” said Aegnor.

“I’m okay, thank you. I might stay up a bit longer. Not tired after that nap, you know? Goodnight.”

They both nodded and went to bed, which made Percy’s job way easier. As soon as he was sure they were sound asleep, he grabbed a bag and packed a few things - not that he had anything to pack - and snuck out of the cabin, closing the door as softly as he could behind him.

Sneaking out of camp was also way easier than it would’ve been in modern times because there were no harpies guarding the border, nor was there a dragon guarding a tree that housed the golden fleece, whose glow would light up the entire hill. He easily snuck beyond the border and began heading north to the mountains, as well as following his brothers’ trail.

It was no mystery which way they had gone. A trail of monster dust and destruction was left in his brothers’ wake. They were heading the right way, at least. However, the monsters they faced seemed scarce, judging by the amount of dust left behind. A hellhound or two here, a dracaena there. If only  _ his _ quests were that easy. Then again, like he’d thought earlier, maybe, if the gods were more powerful in these days, the monsters were, too. It was, after all, a big deal to be the one to kill the minotaur, as Theseus had, but Percy had done it when he was twelve, and only be some fluke.

His path was quick and without distraction, so by the time he caught up with them, it was just barely midnight. He waited in the bushes just outside their camp, the branches poking into his sides and a burn of protest gathered in his legs from the quick pace then sudden stop. Orion was the only one awake, so he must’ve been on first or second watch - Percy didn’t know when they switched or even if they switched.

He was just lying down to rest, himself, when suddenly, the bushes across the clearing from him rustled. A swarm of monsters - maybe fifteen or twenty - burst forth, and while their numbers weren’t that great, they had the element of surprise on their side. Orion, Theseus, and Darius jumped to their feet, weapons at the ready, Orion began firing as fast as he could, but for all his skill, the monsters were faster, and managed to dodge his arrows.

Percy, smiling at the challenge, was about to jump in and help but found that he was preoccupied, himself, as five more monsters came up behind him and attacked. With his blade drawn, he struck and took them down with silent precision. It was only when the five of them - indeed stronger than he remembered - had been felled and turned to dust did he notice that the questers were in a spot of trouble. They must’ve not been used to fighting an entire group of powerful opponents at once before.

Orion was no longer firing arrows because of the close proximity of the hellhounds around him and was using a sword. While he wasn’t half bad, he was neither good at using the blade, but made due as he slashed and blocked, not getting killed, nor landing a strike against the beasts.

Meanwhile, Theseus and Darius, though better with their swordwork, were slowly being outnumbered. Percy charged, Riptide raised above his head and a warcry on his lips. He took the monsters down without hassle, and though they were faster and more resilient than he was used to, a couple of well-placed jabs and strikes put them back where they belonged - Tartarus.

He finished with the twelve monsters just as Orion had finished with his three, and he stood to his full height, panting, next to the three questers, who were staring at him with wide eyes.

“Percy! What are you doing here?” Orion demanded, looking just a little bit annoyed.

“What he means to say is  _ thank you _ for helping us, brother, but how did you get here and how did you learn to do that?” Theseus budded in.

“This is my quest, too,” Percy explained. “You may not believe me, but I’m not from this era. I come from the future, and in the future, the Titan king cursed me to be thrown back and forth throughout time to go on a bunch of quests, I guess. It’s my punishment for fighting against him.” I went on to fully explain my curse to them, and why I believed that I should travel with them to complete the quest.

“But you know that if you join us now, one of us will not return. Only three may be on a quest at one time and return alive,” Orion said.

Percy nodded. “I know. I’ve experienced similar things in the past. Or… future.” He winced. “By the time we’ve completed our quest, though, I might be dragged into another time, and the problem will be solved for you three.”

After that, the four of them continued to head north, Percy had informed the trio about his dream and Hera, which led Theseus to believe that they were to head to the peak of Mount Pindus. It was the only mountain that matched his description - one where monsters would gather. It didn’t usually have snow, though, so that detail confused Theseus. How could there be snow? It didn’t usually get cold enough up there for the white flakes to form.

Just then, Percy paused. Drawing his sword, he looked around.

“What is it, brother?” Orion asked, raising his bow as well.

“Something isn’t right,” Percy replied.

He was right. All around them, monsters suddenly burst from the thicket, quickly surrounding their party of four and shattering any hope of getting out alive. The army was larger than even the swarm that had attacked them just yesterday, and this one, by some unlucky twist of fate, had a leader. A giant - Percy couldn’t tell which one - strode out on his giant, snake-toed chicken legs. Percy believed that they were meant to be dragon legs, but they look a lot more like chicken legs to him.

“What do we do?” Darius asked, sounding slightly afraid. His sword was trembling in his hand as he looked upon their adversaries.

“We fight our way out,” Theseus whispered.

“Are you mad?” he replied.

“No,” Percy said. “He’s absolutely right. Follow my lead.” And with that, Percy raised his sword and charged into the fray.


	8. Battle and Honour

He moved so fast that everything around him was still. Adrenaline raced through his whole body; his heart thundering in his chest and blood roaring in his ears. He was vaguely aware of his brothers and Darius at his side, slightly behind him as he took the brunt of the army they faced, but he couldn’t focus on them at this point in time. It was like an ocean pouring into him, split down the ridge of his blade and spilling in either side of him in slim pickings for his companions.

Time didn’t seem to exist, because it seemed like only seconds later that the army was gone from around them. The surge ceased, and though it seemed like only moments of fighting, the sky darkened to a bright auburn at their backs, illuminating the fluffy clouds with vibrant blush tones.

The only opponent remaining was the giant. Percy didn’t know who it was, but if he knew anything about monsters, he would probably introduce himself.

“You! Demigod heroes! I am impressed by your efforts, but they are in vain, for I cannot be defeated by mere demigod hands alone! And I see no god here to help you whelps!” he bellowed. Shaking his head of locks of black snakes for hair, he glared at the four small adversaries before him. Thirty feet of reptilian flesh stomped forward; his three green-scaled toes indenting the ground where he stood.

“I don’t think so!” Percy cried up at the giant at the top of his voice. “So, before we crush you, I think we should know your name!”

He scowled. “Puny creature! I am Enceladus! Bane of Athena!”

Behind me, Darius growled lowly. “He’s meant to replace my mother. I will  _ not _ let that happen.”

“Sorry, but you guys need to go free Hera. That’s what we’re supposed to do, and I know you will do it.” Percy gave them a smile because he knew what he had to do. He had to face this giant alone. He was a distraction for them to pass and save the queen.

“No! Percy, you must be crazy! You can’t fight a giant without a god, let alone by yourself!” Orion protested.

“I have to,” Percy insisted. “I… feel like this is what I’m supposed to do. I need to distract him so you can complete your quest. Besides, you don’t need to worry about me taking all the fun. I’m sure there will be a few giants waiting for you once you get there.” He tried to spring a joke on them, maybe it would soften the blow, but that didn’t seem to work, as they only glared at him.

“If Percy feels like this is what he must do, then he must do it,” Theseus said, interrupting any further argument. “Let’s go. We don’t have much time.”

With them gone, Percy approached his adversary. He wiped the last of the monster gore from the blade of his sword and charged. The others were long gone before he even managed to land a blow, but with his quick movements and nimble feet, he hit the giant. The blade cut through his flesh easily, sending blood spewing all the way down the back of the giant’s leg from as high as his knee.

Now wounded, the giant’s movements were slower, faltering as pain washed through him in waves; it gave Percy a chance to attack, again and again, and Percy took that chance. With each swipe of his sword, Percy landed another attack, wearing down his opponent. There was no way to kill Enceladus without the help of a god, but the least he could do was slow it down.

The only problem was Gaea. The earth kept riding up, soil wrapping around the giant’s wounds in a mother’s caress and healing all traces of cuts and scrapes. So, while Percy was tiring, the giant, Enceladus, was continuously being renewed. He didn’t know how much more of it he could take.

Exhaustion ran through him like he’d just run a marathon, so much so that he almost didn’t feel the hit. The giant’s large hand swiped, catching him in the chest and sending him through the air. As he landed, he bounced, the rough ground scraping against his face and limbs. Loud clanging rang in his ears.

“Ow…” he said.

There were grains of broken rock piercing the palms of his hands, but he scraped them off with a groan and stood. Pain immediately sparked through his left leg. By some miracle, he stayed on his feet, limping forward.

“Gods help me…” he muttered quietly to himself. There was a trail of blood down one side of his face, clotting in his hair, but he couldn’t stop. He had to keep going. He had to continue. “Please…”

With the last of his strength, Percy ran. He ran faster than ever before. The ground was a blur under him, as was everything else. All but Enceladus. He was the only focus of Percy’s tunnel-vision, and one last blow came from Percy’s arms.

Just at the same time, Percy smiled, for his prayers had been answered. The dramatic action that could have only been Zeus rained down upon them in the form of a large bolt of electricity. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, but the lightning struck the giant just as Percy’s sword did - straight in his heart. When the electricity coursed through him, Percy screamed. He screamed at the top of his lungs, yet the smile stayed on his face. He’d done it. His uncle listened to him, and now Enceladus was finished.

It was then that the clouds began to form. Rain poured down, washing away the giant’s ashes - it was like he was never there. Raindrops the size of apples poured upon his head, but Percy couldn’t care less. He felt water gather underneath him, the earth beneath him so saturated that it spilled over its surface.

The water dragged him along. A nearby river was his refuse, carrying him in its welcoming embrace, the water bringing a sense of peace. Northward was where he was headed, and northward, the river took him.

“Thank you, uncle,” he said, voice faint. “Thank you, father.” Then, his eyes slipped closed and he lost consciousness.

* * *

“Do you think he’s alright?”

The question shocked Percy awake. Water was gently caressing his cheeks, lapping over his body. He must’ve been on a shore somewhere. Where was he? With renewed strength from the water, Percy rose. He stood, blood and wounds washed away by the river, and water slipping easily off his back like a duck. He was completely and utterly dry as he emerged from the riverbed, stunning the townsfolk from where they crowded around him.

There were murmurs.

“Is it Poseidon?”

“The sea god himself?”

“Why is he in the form of a boy?”

Percy smiled. “I’m not Poseidon,” he explained. For a second, he froze. What was the etiquette back in this time? Did they know about demigods just like they knew about the gods? Or was that only later, when they told stories and wrote sagas about them? Better take a chance; they already saw him walk out of the river completely dry. “He’s my father.”

The townsfolk immediately fell to their knees and bowed. “Praise the son of Poseidon!” they chanted.

Percy took a slight step back in shock. 

A man - seemingly the elder of the town, approached. “Son of our lord Poseidon. Please, save us from the earth tremors that your father sends. We must have forsaken him! Come, be our guest, and feast with us! We will appease your father.”

Percy, wrapped up in his confusion and the eagerness of the townsfolk, allowing himself to be escorted to a long table, where food was already laid out. He must’ve interrupted them in the middle of their dinner. Whoops.

“Um… I’m sorry, but I, uh…” he was stopped as they set him down in the head chair, stacking his plate high with food. Before he could protest more, his stomach gurgled. With a red face, Percy dug in. he would need the energy for the upcoming battle, anyway, so what was the harm?

In the middle of his meal, he paused. What was the cause of these tremors? Surely not his father. What reason would he have to do it? Lost in thought, Percy looked up. Directly in front of him was a mountain and just below it was the river he washed up in.

“Pardon me,” he said, turning to one of the women seated next to him. “What is that mountain there?”

She turned bright red, nearly matching his face from early, and said timidly, without looking him in the eye, “That’s Mount Pindus, sir.”

Everything suddenly seemed to click into place. He’d never heard the name, but something compelled him to know. Mount Pindus was where they were holding Hera. It had to be. The tremors were the giants. Such a large drain in a goddess’s power would definitely do  _ something _ to the earth. Of Gaea was involved, there was no telling what the mortals would think.

Percy stood abruptly. The woman cowered. The poor thing probably thought that she’d done something wrong.

“Oh no, I’m sorry!” he said quickly, trying to comfort her. “This has all been lovely. You have all been wonderful hosts, but I’m afraid I must leave. I  _ need _ to get to the top of that mountain.”

“But sir? What about appeasing your father? We must get on with the main course!” the elder insisted almost desperately.

Percy grinned. “You’ll appease my father by helping his son get up that mountain. My compatriots must also be there, and together we will solve the problem of the tremors for you. It’s not my father, it’s something else, and I need to get up there,  _ now _ ,” he said.

The elder nodded. “Of course, sir. Only the finest horse!” With a few quick movements of his hands, one of the mortals left to fetch him a horse and supplies. They were brought within the next ten minutes, all prepped and ready for his next long trek.

Percy mounted, hoping that it would be just like riding a pegasus. As he left, he turned to the mortals. “Thank you,” he said. “I will not forget this kindness.” He waved. “Please, stay safe, and I will do all I can to stop the tremors that plague your village.”

The trek was long and hard, and Percy was forever grateful for those townsfolk. If it had not been for them, he’d have had to climb all the way up himself. With a horse carrying him and his supplies up the mountain, it was much easier and allowed him time to rest for the battle he knew was coming. He could sense it, and if he’d had to hike, no way would he be of any use to them once he reached the top.

It only took half a day to get where he needed to be, and for the first few seconds, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Of course, he’d seen some strange stuff before, but nothing like this.

Hera stood, struggling against her chains and her bars of solid stone, whilst his brothers fought as well. There were giants all around them - three, and at least four dozen monsters - and it seemed like time was running short. 

The only reason they were still alive was that the giants were toying with them. They were so amused by the effort the tiny demigods were putting into freeing the god queen that they just stood by and watched instead of unleashing even the smallest monster on the three of them.

With his horse was safely tied to a tree a little further down the mountain, eating a healthy meal of grass, apples, and grain from his supply bag, and the rest of is weapons on him, Percy drew the bow that he’d grabbed from camp before his untimely departure. He’d only ever shot properly once or twice in his lifetime, but now seemed like the best time to use his newly acquired skills from his older brother, Orion. He notched an arrow in the string and pulled back, ready to shoot.

“Hey! Ugly!” he called.

Everyone froze, looking at him. He kept his eye on the giant king. “Yeah, you! I’m talking to you!”

“Why you little-!”

The giant king had no time to finish as Percy released the arrow, sending it flying across the top of the mountain and directly into his left eye. He let out a pain-filled cry. An outraged roar quickly followed.

“Argh! I’ll kill you!” he shrieked.

“Percy!” Orion yelled from where he still had an arm wrapped around one of the stone bars of the cage. “Run!”

And Percy did just that. He ran.

However, he ran  _ at _ the giant, instead of away from it. With a battle cry on his lips and his sword in hand, Percy charged, ready to fight, even if it meant he wouldn’t survive. He was sent back in time for a reason, of course. Even if that reason was of Kronos throwing a tantrum, he would make the most of it. They won, of course, didn’t they? No harm done.

He didn’t even hear Orion muttering of “Percy, you must have a death wish…”


	9. The Final Fight

_ “Wow,” _ Percy thought elatedly. Despite the battle raging on around him and his role as the main target, he couldn’t keep the grin off his face. He’d finally shot an arrow… and hit what he was aiming at! Geryon didn’t count...because, you know, Hera helped him with that one. She’d guided his arrow, but this time, it was  _ au naturel _ !

He had no time to rejoice, however, as his opponent approached. He was tall and imposing, but Percy knew he couldn’t back down. Around Porphyrion, pods of earth rose from the ground, pulsing with magical energy. Percy paled. What could those possibly be for? He dreaded the answer, for they towered over him like skyscrapers. The earthen chambers were plump, looking ready to burst open at a moment’s notice.

As he lept and slashed at the giant he was facing, Percy spared a glance back at his brothers, who struggled against the rock bars of the god-queen’s cage. How come they weren’t using Poseidon’s earthshaker abilities? Couldn’t they just summon the powerful vibration of an earthquake into their sword and strike? Or into the ground to rumble it apart? Percy sighed. Or maybe they just couldn’t. The myths  _ did _ never say anything about any of Poseidon’s sons inheriting his land-quaking powers. Nor hurricane. Sometimes, not even his water powers, either. Perhaps Percy had just landed in the deeper end of the godly gene pool.

Porphyrion swung, his arm going low, and Percy jumped, higher than he thought was possible, to avoid the sharp, honed marble of the blade. Then, he slid along the ground, ignoring the rough terrain against his butt through his thin Greek chiton; he prayed it wouldn’t come off altogether.

Once he was close enough, Percy stabbed his sword between two scales, despite them being closely overlapped. They were not close enough, it seemed, as they could not avoid the pointed metal tip of Riptide slicing in between them. It easily pierced the soft pink flesh underneath, and the giant roared.

His brothers were still struggling, and so, a plan hatched in the forefront of Percy’s mind. By now, it was a little chick, clucking around, and he was ready to feed it.

“Hold on!” he called aloud, causing his brothers to all look up in alarm as Percy ran back over towards them; the giant king was close behind. He moved quickly and gracefully in a zigzag, dodging all of the giant’s slow, yet powerful movements.

With nimble steps, he charged, jumping up off a large boulder and onto the top of the cage.

“Hey ugly! Over here!” he taunted. “I heard your mom made you king; just know that you faced the youngest of the first six and failed!”

Porphyrion bellowed, steam practically billowing out of his ears. Abandoning his sword, he brought down a mighty fist, right on top of Percy--

Or, at least, where Percy had been standing. The giant’s fist instead was brought down on the top of the cage, sending small cracks all throughout the bars, and causing a series of groans to emit from the rock prison. It began to crumble, just barely maintaining its structure.

With a triumphant laugh, Percy jumped back up onto the cage as the giant backed away, a guilty, frightened expression on his face. His mommy would surely have words for him about  _ that _ mistake. With that distraction keeping the giant occupied, Percy focused on freeing the queen - Hera - before she began ranting to him about how that giant’s meaty fist could’ve squashed her flat and yada, yada, yada… He jumped up and, in midair, spun, raising his sword. Closing his eyes, he thought of a powerful earthquake. He focused on the vibration, moving all throughout his body. It was his heartbeat, his pulse in his veins, his synapses firing.

He’d never done it before, but…if his father could do it, how hard could it be? He was a naturally gifted son, after all, and what better way to find out if he would do it than when his life depended on it? It seemed that was how he tested out all of his abilities - besides canoeing, of course. He’d never had to base his life on canoeing - yet.

He pictured the shaking of the trees and the rocks; he felt the vibrations - every small shudder - shake him to his core; the undulating tremor rose from the depths of his stomach and he sent it all the way down his arm and into his sword…

Percy brought the tip of Riptide’s blade down on the weakest point of the cage - the centrepiece of all the cracks - and let the vibrations of his earthshaker powers flow directly into it. His sword wasn’t a weapon. No. It had become a conductor for his ruthless destruction. It only brought forth the true power of his inner rage and concentration. His sword, imbued with the power to level a city, struck the rock and everything exploded.

Well, not really…

...but it also sort of did.

Pieces of rock and dust fly in all directions: up, down, left, right, diagonal - it sprayed Percy and all of his siblings with debris. Hera, inside the wreckage, did not look happy. Despite her survival of the ordeal, she was covered in dust. A deep frown marred her usually perfectly pleasant face. Frown lines cut into her forehead, but at this point, it didn’t seem like she cared.

“Now the chains!” Percy yelled at his siblings as he took off to fight the giant once again. “Good luck!”

The three of them watch him with awe and slight fear. How had he just done that? And with such ease? Who  _ was _ he? The two brothers shook themselves; they focused on the task at hand.

Percy grinned as the giant stomped his scaled feet in aggravation. 

“You tricked me!” he cried, like a child whining at the checkout lane of a grocery store. “It’s not fair!”

“Sucks to be you right now,” Percy replied nonchalantly. “I bet mummy won’t be too pleased when she finds out you helped free the goddess.” 

“Arrrrrgh! I will kill you!” he exclaimed. “I will kill everyone you love! I will flay the flesh from their bones!”

Percy only grinned at the statement. Normally, he would do no such thing, but this time, he had an excellent reason to. “My family is not anywhere within your reach, brute! Take that! You cannot kill any of them if you cannot find them!”

A low snort came from the giant. “Then I will settle for those puny sons of Poseidon.”

Dread settled in Percy’s heart. Sure, his brothers were friends of his - they were his brothers, after all - but they were temporary, he knew he’d have to leave eventually because of his curse, and he’d probably never see them again, so he couldn’t become attached. Besides, they were heroes of legend: they could take care of themselves. It was Annabeth, and Grover, and Thalia, and all of the others back in the 2000s that he was really worried about. They were probably all awaiting his return, and trying to go about their regular lives as they did.

Just then, there was a colossal  _ boom _ thundering throughout the field. His brothers and the son of Athena had broken the chains. Hera was free: a success. Suddenly, they had a goddess on their side, and with demigods and their goddess working together, they could defeat Porphyrion.

Unfortunately, freeing Hera was not the only thing the blast achieved. A whole series of events began, a succession of dominoes, all in a row, and they’d just toppled the first one. Not only did the wave affect the immediate surrounding area, but it also washed over the earthen chambers that Percy had seen earlier. When the burst of Hera’s power exploded forth, the chambers began to vibrate even more frequently. Cracks formed on their surfaces. It was as they feared: the chains had been slowly absorbing the god-queen’s powers, feeding whatever was in those pods; Percy had a pretty good idea as to what they were.

The first one split, like an egg, and from it, a new giant emerged, larger and more grotesque than Percy had ever seen. It shrugged off most of the incubation fluid, and with the first step, let out a loud bellow: a claim of hunger and destruction.

More giants sprang forth. Soon, the chambers lay in pieces, scattered around the field, and instead of one or two giants, Percy, his brothers, the son of Athena, and Hera faced ten.

_ “This is it,” _ Percy thought,  _ “The final battle has begun. We must warn the others and summon as many fighters and gods as possible.” _

Theseus, thinking along the same lines, ran a little ways away and made a rainbow. He tossed in a drachma and incanted his offering to Iris, who, thankfully, accepted and showed him to the gods’ throne room. “Father!” he called to Poseidon, “We’ve freed Hera, but the giants are here! The final battle has begun! We request your help to defeat them.”

In the message, Zeus stood. “Come, we must make haste,” he told the council, and soon, they vanished from the place. Theseus closed the message and looked around. They were nowhere to be found, so obviously they must’ve stopped at the demigod camp to collect the demigod fighters for this battle. The more, the better. Only having four to face ten giants was most certainly, not enough. 

The giants spared no time. They were freshly renewed and ready for the ensuing battle. It started. The gods appeared, all dressed in gloriously polished battle armour, with their army of demigod children at their sides.

All at once, everyone charged.

The archers - Apollo’s children and the hunters - teamed up; their arrows spewed forth, each volley a wall of small, sharp points. Their aim, the giant’s eyes, of course. It was to blind their opponents, to give the side of the gods an advantage. It worked, for the most part, but the giants healed as quickly as they were hurt. The earth came up, wrapped around them in its motherly embrace, and restored their eyes. Each chink in their armour was repaired stronger by Gaea, who, though still in her deep slumber, aided her favoured children in their battle.

Orion, facing Thoon and Agrius, struck with his own quick succession of arrows, each in places that would cripple any regular opponent, though had little to no effect on the giants, other than to annoy them. Finally, as he raced forward with a spear instead, the Fates themselves came forward with bronze maces.

Orion froze, stunned. Why had the Fates themselves come down? Their only purpose - as was believed by many - was to loom over the fates of all being. Why had they left that sacred post to help in this fight? But of course, the answer was obvious. The Morai, too, had giants created to oppose them. Two, in fact, and with their bronze maces, the three old women struck down the two giants. Their blows did not cease as they rained blow after blow, giving Orion just enough time to unfreeze and continue his path. His spear stabbed in their flesh, and both giants were soon dust once more.

Percy shuddered. Those maces were probably to become their knitting needles - when knitting needles were invented. How long would that be? The 16th century?

Anyway, aside from their children or followers, the immortal twins, Apollo and Artemis had their own battle to face. Gration - who was to replace Apollo and take Artemis as his submissive wife, was similarly beaten into the ground. His immense strength was no match for their dual arrows, which whistled through the air with the powers of the sun and moon behind them. 

The hunters and demigods, too, in an act of pure unspoken cooperation, all fired at the same moment, and their arrows struck Gration. He was a human pincushion - was all Percy could think in amusement as he ran from giant to giant, inflicting gash after gash, only for each giant to be healed by their mother.

He passed Aphrodite, who had donned an elegant suit of golden armour - plated delicately across her perfectly shaped form. Her foil, a female giant by the name of Periboea, advanced upon her. Fighting alongside the goddess of love and beauty was an equally beautiful demigod, one of her more courageous daughters by the name of Calliope - Percy had only met her briefly while he was at camp. She was, perhaps, the only daughter of Aphrodite that Percy had ever met who wasn’t vain, nor spent hours a day on their appearance.

More daintily than Percy had ever seen - or thought possibly - Calliope threw a spear, impaling the giant through her head. The snakes of her hair hissed in aggravation but were defenceless as their brethren were cut from their roots. At the same time, her mother thrust a wicked-looking dagger forward to finish her off.

Then, the rest of the battle faded away. Percy allowed all other sounds to disappear, muffled as he focused on the giant king, who faced Zeus,  _ mano a mano _ . He’d been fighting this terrible giant so long already that he knew it had to be him to help finish it off. That would only be fair.

Percy rushed in, swiping at the chicken legs of the atrocious monster. (Dragon legs, really, but chicken made it sound funnier.)

Zeus tilted his head to the demigod, grinning despite his parentage, and raised his hand. Immediately, the sky darkened. Clouds formed together above them and rumbled with the vocals of an old man. Rain poured down upon their heads, quickly saturating the earth. Puddles gathered at their feet, splashed by the large steps of the giants and the quick steps of the demigods.

Percy felt anew in the rain. His energy was returning to him - faster than he depleted it in their fight. And, of course, he’d just been given a new weapon. For him, every raindrop was a dagger, ready and waiting to be sharpened to the perfect point and used against their enemies. He could bring the clouds themselves together, for they were just water after all, and create shackles, which he used to lift all of the giants off the ground. With their connections lost, the earth mother could heal them no more.

Strain drew sweat from his brow, but it was washed away just as it appeared. His power was a revolving door, an endless cycle of renewal and depletion. He felt fresh and expired all at once. How could it be? Both alive and dead? Percy fought against the exhaustion, but also against the caffeinated adrenaline rushing through him.

He formed spears of the water, condensing them to aim at the giant king’s heart, and as he did so - much like the Polybotes, Zeus brought forth a lightning bolt. The streak of electricity came alive, jumping from droplet to droplet until it zapped the spear, running through it.

And so, the giant king, Porphyrion, was dead.

The other giants looked on in horror at the fate of their king, but, to their credit, fought back yet. Their struggles against Percy’s chains proved successful, and once again their feet met the barren ground. However, this distraction of their king’s death brought unlimited possibilities; an opportunity arose, and the demigods took it. Final blows were dealt, and the giants were no more. Their dust fertilized the soil as Gaea, the earth mother herself, fell back into a deep slumber.

She would sleep for millennia more, and perhaps, when she felt the next surge of rage, she would rise again, to take the surface world for her children, the giants.

The battle was over for now. It may have been long; many hours in fact, but in the end, they were victorious. The lives that had been lost, though - hundreds of demigods - was the price they had to pay for this success. Hades promised safe passage for their souls, but they were gone from this world forever, and would only return if reborn from Elysium.

The sun had long since sunken below the oceanic horizon, and flaming torches immediately lit all around them; bright fire illuminated the gore and blood in the most horrendous way.

* * *

“Congratulations to all of your demigods! And, of course, to us!” Zeus announced as they were all back on Olympus in the gods’ throne room. “I believe,” he said, “That rewards are in order.” Then, to the side, he grumbled, “Not that I have to like it.”

It began with Percy’s brothers. Orion and Theseus, then the son of Athena, who’d obviously made his mother very proud, despite having needed the help of Poseidon’s children. When it was time for Percy to step forward, things took a turn for the worst. He felt a strange sensation and knew that his body was getting ready for another time jump. The curse inside of him was activating, and just before Zeus could ask him what he wished for, the time portal opened and Percy was pulled in - chiton and all.

“Hey! You can’t just disappear-!” Percy didn’t even hear that last of Zeus’ outcry because the portal closed, and he was once again plunged into the brilliantly blinding lights of the portal, only to be spit up in another damaged sector of time.


	10. The Garden of Gold

Maybe I should’ve been used it to by now, but it seemed that every time I fell through that portal, I wasn’t prepared to hit the hard dirt below. And so, as I popped out into another unknown timeline, the ground came up at me, striking me with jaws of stone like an alligator, I let out a loud groan. I was a tumbleweed, though less graceful, and not crossing the road of an old Western town. 

No. 

Instead, I was in the middle of nowhere, a tall mountain range on one side and endless plains on the other. It looked kind of familiar, but then again, all mountains seemed to look the same. It could’ve been anywhere, anytime. The brilliant night sky stretched out above me - millions of stars blazing so bright that I could hardly bear to look at them.

I was just about on a breakthrough about figuring out where I was - I was on the brink, I swear - when a dark-haired man came charging out of nowhere with a large club. He wore an old fashioned Greek tunic. A cape of lion skin billowed behind him as he ran directly to the tallest mountain. He hadn’t even noticed me.

My jaw dropped. It was Hercules! (or Heracles, for the Greeks)

Gods, he was so muscular - like, it was kind of weird, but I guess that came with the super-strength. Then, it all clicked. It was kind of hard to tell without the mountain overshadowing San Francisco, but I realized where I was - mount Othrys. It was one in Greece, obviously, and from the appearance of Hercules, I must’ve been in ancient times again - just… more recent ancient times.

Was I to witness the twelve trials of Hercules? Or, at least, a few of them? He was on his way to collect a golden apple, to be sure, and would meet Zoe Nightshade if my memory held. I growled at the thought. Hercules may have been labelled a hero in the myths but I knew the truth., In fact, I’d seen it with my own eyes - in a dream, before, but now, I would see it again, and I would stop him from tricking Zoe like he had. Maybe that was why Kronos sent me back. He wanted me to change things - for the better or worse, I didn’t know, but if the former, he probably wanted me to fail. However, who was I to say what was going on in a Titan’s mind?

I quickly and quietly followed behind Hercules, up to the top of the mountain - the place where the earth met the sky. Atlas, as always, was imprisoned under the sky, holding the harsh black tempest upon his shoulders. Though he was higher up the mountain it seemed, and I could not see him, only the weight upon his shoulders. His daughters - Zoe included - were nowhere to be found, but I saw Hercules up ahead at the gates to the garden.

He seemed to be contemplating how to get in without being noticed by Ladon - the dragon guardian - but it seemed impossible to my eyes.

If I’d thought that Ladon was scary before, now, centuries prior, he was at his prime. He was a massive creature, a hundred heads, all tangled around - alert and watching - as the rest of his body curled around the base of the tree of immortality - Hera’s wedding gift to Zeus. Why she decided to put it here was still a mystery to me, but maybe I’d go to that time, too, and find out.

Sneaking forward, I stood behind some trees just to his left and watched as Zoe approached, curious, from his right. She would’ve seen me - if she hadn’t been so focused on Hercules. I couldn’t really blame her awe - she must’ve never seen a man other than her father, and objectively, I guess Hercules was rather handsome if you liked the tall, rugged, hero type. You’d only ever learn that he was a jerk after meeting him.

“Hello,” she said, shyly - it was hard to think of Zoe ever being shy, but here she was, in front of me - “Who art thou?”

Hercules puffed out his chest. “Thou has not heard of me?”

She tilted her head, eyes wandering over his form. “No. Should I have?”

“I am Hercules!” he announced, flexing a bicep. “Son of Zeus. And thou art Zoe, correct? The fairest of the Hesperides?” He flashed a grin as Zoe blushed.

“I am she, but I would not say that I am the fairest. My sisters are all very beautiful.”

Hercules’ grin widened. “I would say not, maiden! For you are the most beautiful of all I have seen in my journeys.”

Zoe blushed a deeper red. “And why art thou here, mighty Hercules?” she asked.

“I have come for an apple from the tree of immortality, guarded by your dragon, Ladon, It is the quest assigned to me by the god Apollo and his oracle of Delphi.”

“She has spoken to you?” Zoe was intrigued. I guess as a Hesperide, she didn’t see many outsiders and certainly didn’t travel anywhere. For her wandering spirit, it must've been torture to stay here, no matter how fine the garden was.

“Yes. This is the eleventh of my twelve arduous tasks.”

That was the moment that Zoe must’ve realized just what Hercules had said because her eyes widened and she took a step back from him. “You wish to steal one of our apples? That’s won’t do. No one can take the apples, not even my sisters or I. Ladon will not let us, for they are not ours to take.”

Hercules, seeing his chance, quickly changed the subject. “I see you look wistfully at the world, pretty one. Do you long for adventure?”

Zoe turned, surprised. She sighed. “Yes, but alas, I cannot leave this garden, nor my father or sisters. We are a family bound together by love and trust. And I could not leave Ladon. He is very dear to me, and enjoys when I feed him lamb’s meat.”

“Pretty one, I could bring you on all my adventures. I could show you the world you dream to see.”

Zoe sighed wistfully.

“But I cannot do that if I do not complete my tasks. Are you sure there is no way to obtain the apples?”

Zoe frowned and shook her head. “You cannot take the apples from Ladon. He is too strong.”

“I will still try,” Hercules said, and then he was dashing into the garden. Zoe tried to call out to him, but he was long gone.

I followed stealthily - my feet were silent from my training in the army. Jumping the fence, I watched as Hercules charged at the beast, but Ladon hissed; all eyes immediately turned to him. With a quick snap of one of his hundred jaws, the club disappeared from Hercules’ hand and became splinters at the dragon’s feet.

Before Ladon could strike again, Zoe grabbed Hercules’ strong hand and pulled him into the tall grass. They were running together, the grass falling away around them. It was only the displacement of the plants that allowed me to keep track of them, though I was more focused on Ladon, whose many heads followed behind - though his base remained curled around the tree.

I knew what was going on - it was so familiar to me. She was leading him away and would tell him to trick her father into getting him the apples - just like in my dream. But then, he would abandon her. His empty promises of taking her away, to adventure, from her family who would disown her for helping him.

My eyes tracked them up the hill, and they collapsed behind a thorn bush, panting. Zoe - who before looked wistful and awed at the strange hero, now had a look of terror painted across her face. I didn’t doubt that Ladon had never chased her before. She must’ve raised the old dragon from the time he was a hatchling - they had a bond that ran deeper than family.

Though I couldn’t hear them speaking, I knew word-for-word the conversation.

 _“There is no need to run,”_ he told her. His voice was filled with confidence, despite the retreat. _“I have bested a thousand monsters with my bare hands.”_

 _“Not this one,”_ she replied. Just like in my dream, Zoe’s voice would be filled with hurt, concern for this handsome stranger that promised her the world. _“Ladon is too strong. You must go around, up the mountain to my father. It is the only way.”_

_“I don't trust your father.”_

_“You should not,”_ she agreed. _“You will have to trick him. But you cannot take the prize directly. You will die.”_

I could almost hear Hercules’ chuckle from my own hiding place. _“Then why don't you help me, pretty one?”_

His question - though unheard by my ears - made my blood boil. He was manipulating her. His words would force her to help him, no matter how she felt. I didn’t fully understand what he was doing back when I was younger, but now, as I recalled their conversation, now again seeing it, it was clear as day.

_“I… I am afraid. Ladon will stop me. My sisters, if they found out… they would disown me.”_

_“Then there's nothing for it.”_ He stood up, and I could see him clearly, rubbing his hands together.

 _“Wait,”_ Zoe warned, going to stop him. Her gentle hand was a barrier as it landed on his bicep, and he stopped, turning to her. I could see, even from a distance, indecision on her face. She loved her family, I knew that well, but this handsome stranger, well, people made bad decisions when they thought love was possible. With trembling fingers, she plucked her white brooch from her hair - what would become the sword I now held as well in my pocket. She passed it to him, though a scowl of confusion graced his face instead of gratitude.

 _“If you must fight, take this. My mother, Pleione, gave it to me. She was a daughter of the ocean, and the ocean’s power is within it. My immortal power.”_ She breathed on it, imbuing the weapon with her power. _“Take it,”_ she urged. _“And make of it a weapon.”_

Hercules just laughed, and I could hear it from my place. If Ladon wasn’t tied to the tree, he would’ve found them, certainly, far quicker. The only reason they weren’t already dead was because he was trying to figure out how to stay wrapped around his tree and chase off the intruders at the same time. 

_“A hairpin? How will this slay Ladon, pretty one?”_

_“It may not,”_ she admitted, _“But it is all I can offer if you insist on being stubborn.”_

Hercules looked down at his hand, which I knew held the hairpin, and quickly, it became the bronze sword I knew so well. I almost growled. He wasn’t worthy to wield that sword. It shouldn’t have even been in his grubby hands.

 _“Well balanced,”_ he said. _“Though I usually prefer to use my bare hands. What shall I name this blade?”_

 _“Anaklusmos,”_ Zoe said sadly. _“The current that takes one by surprise. And before you know it, you have been swept out to sea.”_

Then, I saw Ladon approach. He had divided his attention successfully. His tail wrapped around the tree while the rest of his body pursued them up the hill. His hundred heads hissed, like a thousand tires deflating at once. 

Zoe froze, more terrified than ever. _“Too late! He is here!”_

They both jumped up and fled in separate directions. I rose as well and was a mouse scampering along after them as they ascended the mountain. Atlas would be up there, under the sky. Then, I saw something that brought me pause. Ladon had all but abandoned his post at the tree. His boundaries were the garden, after all, and he had not yet seen me. His tail uncurled from the tree, and I saw a chance that I would not be able to give up. I spun and went for the tree. One, two, three steps, and I jumped, plucking an apple with a single swipe of my sword. 

Pocketing the apple, I climbed the hill, just as Hercules and Zoe reached the gate. Ladon stopped short at the gate, and, with a satisfied look on his face for chasing the intruders, returned to his tree, completely unaware of the missing apples, which had already grown back.

I crested the hill just as Hercules approached Atlas; Zoe was nowhere to be found. They spoke, though I couldn’t hear what was said. However, I knew this part of the legend. Hercules would hold the sky for Atlas if he retrieved the apples from the garden.

Atlas, a devious titan to be sure, gladly let the strongman take his burden and slip out from under the torrent of the sky, stretching his back. A series of sickening pops echoed over the landscape, and I winced.

Then, the other Hesperides were there, though Zoe still wasn’t among them. I counted, one, two, three, four, all dressed the same, with dark hair and similar features - a Persian princess - though none were as beautiful as Zoe. Where could she be?

“Who are thou?” the quiet voice made me jump, and I spun on the tips of my toes, seeing Zoe. She, too, was crouching, hiding as Hercules had made his deal with her father. She’d seen me; how could I explain everything? At least I was still wearing my Greek tunic from the previous time period and not modern clothes - _that_ would’ve been hard to explain.

“Well?” she asked, more curious than cold. She seemed so different than how I would meet her, centuries later.

“I’m Percy,” I stuttered, too shocked to come up with a fake name.

“And what art thou doing here?”

I suddenly changed the subject. “Hercules won’t give you what you want. He’s a liar and a murderer. His empty promises will do nothing for you and the only outcome of this will be your downfall.”

Zoe backed away slightly. “How could this be? He is an honourable man!”

“Who are you to know? I asked in return, “You’ve only just met him.”

“He already treats me better than anyone has since my mother. My father is a brute and my sisters are only concerned with themselves.” Zoe’s voice was growing smaller by the second.

“Zoe, believe me; it’s all a trick. He doesn’t really care about you,” I urged.

She pushed me. “Thou know'st nothing! Get out of my sight this instant!” Her feet pattered harshly against the ground as she ran away, while I remained crouched in my hiding place, somehow unnoticed by the others as Atlas returned with three golden apples in hand.

Hercules looked up. “Many thanks to thee, friend. Now, I should be on my way…”

Atlas just laughed. “Thou thought I’d take back the sky from you, boy? Thou hast another thing coming! Never in a millennium will I have to hold that damned sky!”

“Please, sir, only for a moment. If I am to hold this burden for all eternity, I must be in the right position. Just hold it for a moment while I adjust my arm.”

Atlas, being young and naive - something I never thought I’d say - seemed to agree. “Alas! I hate it when one is uncomfortable! Well, that mercy was given to me during my imprisonment, so I will grant it to you as well. Let me take the burden - but only for a moment!”

“Of course, of course. Thank you, kind sir,” Hercules said as he adjusted his footing. Atlas stepped forward, taking the sky from his shoulder.

Big mistake.

Hercules, with his youth and agility, leapt out from under the sky as soon as Atlas took one handful of the tempest, leaving the titan to collapse under its weight. The “hero” darted out of the way, a sly grin on his face. He’d outwitted the Titan - with Zoe’s help, mind you. She’d told him exactly what he’d needed to do and say to get his way, in return to protection from her family’s rage and the promise of adventure. But, I knew how it would end. He would betray her and leave her to die.

Hercules took the apples from Atlas when suddenly, a glow lit up the hill. I turned away, though immediately looked back, curious. I couldn’t remember what had happened after Hercules stole the apples - how had the myth gone again?

My eyes widened. 

It was Athena. She looked at him, her wise grey eyes - though unwrinkled with youth, still held the vast knowledge of the world within them. “Young hero,” she said, acknowledging his presence. “I have been sent by Hera."

Hercules grinned. “My lady, I have retrieved the golden apples from the garden of the Hesperides. Please tell Lady Hera that my task is complete and I am ready for the next.” He showed her the three apples, then went to put them in his bag.

Athena frowned. “While you possess the apples and have completed your task, but you did not complete this task alone. You were aided, and used dishonesty and trickery to accomplish this feat, instead of bravery and valour. You are not worthy to keep these apples, therefore, I shall return them to the tree, where they rightfully belong.” She snapped her fingers, and the apples vanished from Hercules’ hands. He grasped at the open-air, affronted.

“But… My lady -” he protested. However, Athena was already gone.

When the confusion and astonishment faded, rage settled in, and Hercules stomped his way down the hill, back to the garden, where Zoe was waiting for him, a hopeful expression on her face. I followed closely behind, but not before checking my bag to see that the apples were still there. Had they not seen me? Or, since I picked the apples myself, was I allowed to keep them?

Hercules was headed straight for Zoe, so I ran as quickly as I could, ready to step in if need be.


	11. The Hunters

Hercules was enraged. It wasn’t something that I’d expected to see - ever - but it still seemed more likely than Ladon without bad breath, so I wasn’t all that surprised. I mean, who could blame the guy? Sure, he hadn’t gotten to keep the apples, but that was only fair, since he wasn’t even the one to retrieve them, nor come up with the plan to do so in the first place. If anything, Zoe should have been the one to keep the apples, but I digress.

He marched straight over to Zoe, who, oblivious to his mood, looked generally hopeful. There was something innocent about the smile on her face, something ignorant in the sparkle in her eye, that led me to believe that she truly was just a child trapped in the garden of her father and sisters, all alone. Hercules was well within ten feet of her before she noticed his expression - one of immense frustration - and she frowned. Her eyebrows furrowed in genuine confusion as if she just couldn’t comprehend  _ why _ he was upset. He’d gotten the apples, right? He’d tricked her father and escaped the sky? He’d completed his task? Why could he  _ possibly _ be upset?

I hid behind a nearby tree, shrouded in tall grass as I eavesdropped. Zoe would not appreciate me cutting in to save her like a damsel in distress - before the time was right, of course. She already didn’t like my accusations against Hercules, but I knew from her future self that this would not be a pretty break and that she’d need someone to lean on after being betrayed and abandoned by the only man she trusted - one who she betrayed her family for. Also, I wanted to see how it would play out while being ready to intervene if necessary.

“Thou lied to me, pretty one,” he said, his tone the same as those of the most gruesome monsters I’d faced - the ones who could speak, anyway. It was low and cold, a gravelly sort of growl that sent shivers down my spine.

“What dost thou mean?”

“Thou knew that Athena would purloin those apples from me! Thou knew! That is why thou toldst me thy father was the only way! If I did not acquire them myself, I would not be allowed to keep them!” he accused, pointing a finger at her - a finger that could probably had the power to bench press an elephant, but instead was used to threaten a young girl.

“Athena?” Zoe seemed to have missed most of what he said. “The Lady Athena was here?”

Hercules growled. “Yes! Art thou not listening to me? Is it not getting through thy thick skull? She came and took the apples away from me! She said I was  _ unworthy _ of them! That I did not  _ earn _ them!”

Zoe took a step back, now, finally feeling the aggression coming off him in waves. “I did not know. Thou canst blame me for a goddess’s actions. Thou completed thy task, is that not so?”

“Yes! It is so! I completed my task, but the apples were taken from me, unrightfully!”

Zoe glared now. “I do not see what is thy problem. Thou completed thy task, and yet, thou art discontented.”

Just then, Hercules looked like he was going to hit her - like he was going to raise his hand to strike her across the face, but he didn’t. Thank the gods that he didn’t, because I would not have made it there in time, and with his unparalleled strength, I feared he may kill her, unwittingly. Instead, he turned away, inhaling noisily through his nose.

Then, he turned back. “I will take my leave now. To complete my twelfth and final task. Then, I shall finally be rid of Hera’s foul discontempt.”

Just as he turned, Zoe grabbed his arm. “And where will we go?”

He pulled away, his face flashing with such malice that Zoe took a step back. “Thou shalt not be going. Thou shalt stay here to rot, where thy kind belongs! Thou art not any further use to me.”

“Please! Thou mustn’t leave without me! Thou  _ promised _ to take me to see the world - away from this wretched place! Thy promises cannot lie!”

“Thine pour naive soul!” he burst out with dark laughter. “I never intended to take you away, pretty one. Thou were a mean to an end, nothing more than a pawn in my game.”

“But… my family! They will know of my deceit! What shall I do then? They shall disown me!”

“That is none of my concern, pretty one.”

Zoe got angry then. Angier than I’d ever seen her before. It was like her heart had been ripped from her chest - metaphorically, it had already - and her reservations had flown out the window. She looked ready to kill. “Thou lied to me! Thou promised to take me away, filling my head with grandeur! I know what thou art, now! Thou art a wretched, foul-hearted  _ swine _ ! Thou art dishonoured by thy filth and hatred!”

One moment, she was leaning close to his face, yelling so loudly that spittle flew onto his cheeks, but then, she was on the ground, several feet away. I’d almost missed the sound of his face connecting with her cheek - it had all happened so fast. It wasn’t like in the movies where everything slowed down. Instead, I saw everything sped up like someone had been fast-forwarding, and just kept going, leaving me to fumble for a remote I’d never be able to reach.

I was just about ready to burst from my hiding place when Hercules turned away from the girl on the ground, who was clutching the quickly-purpling mark on the right side of her face. He took one last look at her, twirled the sword imbued with her power -  _ Anaklusmos _ , which he had no right to wield - and left.

I was astonished. Truly. Not by Hercules display of blatant disrespect, nor his cruel demeanour and disregard for her feelings. No. That would never surprise me. It was his use of violence and the situation in which Soe had gotten herself into. How could he have just…  _ used _ her like that? When I was younger - far younger - I’d always looked up to him as a hero. It was only after I’d met Zoe that I’d looked closer to the myths circling around him. I’d read about his triumphs, always exaggerated, and his failures - few and far between as they were. This moment, not even recorded in the records, was truly one of the darkest of his, that I knew for sure.

No wonder Zoe had nursed her hatred for men for over two millennia. Hercules was the worst, most vile human being I’d ever seen since my garbage step-father, Gabe Ugliano.

Hercules disappeared over the hill on his way down the mountain without a care in the world. He’d completed his task; that was all he cared about. Only the mild setback of not being allowed to retain his grasp over the golden apples had discouraged him, and I didn’t doubt that he’d already wiped his encounter with Zoe from his mind. Surely, when he told the story, he’d leave her own of the story completely, and boast about how he’d tricked the mighty Atlas to retrieve the apples for him. He’d regale his worshipping fans with the tale of his effortless escape and perfect plan.

Zoe just stared after his retreating figure until long after he vanished. It was like she could still see him, his image burned into her memory, and if she stared long enough, the real man would be burned, too. If only that was how hatred worked. Alas, even the purest, most brutal form of hatred did not destroy one’s enemies without due action. And Zoe could not do such a thing, for she was a Hesperide, and Hesperides could not leave the confines of the garden - not without an escort - so Hercules was now beyond her reach. Now and forevermore.

I, once again, was ready to step in to comfort her, but it seemed that the universe - or perhaps just the Fates - were against me, as her sisters suddenly appeared, glaring down at her.

They’d seen everything, it seemed because they knew what she had done. They ripped at her clothes, tugged at her hair, shouted brutal hate down upon their once-sister. She deserved it, after all. She’d betrayed them. Betrayed her family for a complete stranger, and now she was paying for it. She was left with nothing, and when her sisters finally left her, shivering and weeping on the cold, hard ground, she knew that she’d made the biggest mistake of her life.

I knew how to change that.

I finally emerged, quiet as a mouse as I approached the sobbing girl. I kneeled down next to her, but she seemed to be too wrapped up in her sorrow, as she did not notice me, even as I laid of a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Hey,” I said softly.

She looked up and glared, immediately recognizing me, though there were tears in her onyx-black eyes. “What dost thou want? Canst thou not see my pain?” Her voice was raw - as I expected. The deep hatred for men was settling in behind her eyes - I could see it. I was probably the last person she wanted to see because I’d been the one to tell her that Hercules was a bad guy and she hadn’t believed me. 

“Art thou not the man who warned me of Hercule’s deceit?” she suddenly asked. “How didst thou know?”

Knowing I couldn’t tell her the truth, and that even if I did she wouldn’t believe me, I just smiled and held out my hand. When she took it, hesitantly, I stood, lifting her out of the mud. “I can’t tell you; I’m sorry.”

Her eyes narrowed, and she was drawing into herself again, though less so than she had with Hercules. “Thou speaks strangely. Why is that?”

“I can’t tell you that either. But, regarding your other question… I just know his type. How people like him act, and I knew that he wouldn’t keep his word. Hercules is a bad person with a bad past, and can’t be trusted.”

“And how do I know that I can trust thou?” she accused.

“You can’t, and I don’t know what I can say to make you think otherwise. Just know that I’m nothing like Hercules or  _ his kind _ .” I almost growled when I said this.

“Then say that I do trust thou. What canst thou do for me? I have no place to go. My family has cast me out. I am without a home and without my honour.”

Then, I smiled. This was my chance to make things right. “I know just the place. Come with me.”

* * *

“Where art thou taking me?” she asked as I took her down the mountain. I led her along with a light hand on her upper arm, neither dragging nor pushing her - just guiding. I’d been praying to Artemis all the way down the mountain, hoping that she’d come to take this new Huntress for her own.

I paused for a moment - both in walking and praying - and told her, “Zoe, I can take you to a place where you will never feel like an outsider. You will never be treated as Hercules has treated you, and this new family with never leave you.”

There was suddenly a glimmer of hope in her eyes as she looked at me. Though, there was also fear. I knew what she was thinking: could I possibly be lying to her? Was I just like Hercules underneath, and instead of leading her to her salvation, could I be leading her to her doom?

No. I wasn’t. I had to convince her otherwise. Not all of us were the same wretched men as he was. We weren’t all tricksters, charlatans, or cheats.

A sad smile tugged at the corners of my lips. “I’m just a man on a journey, and I couldn’t just stand by and let him treat you that way,” I replied simply. “People who act like Hercules don’t deserve the good in the world. They must earn their triumphs, not deal underhanded blows to those around them for glory. Everyone should be treated with the respect they deserve - that’s what I believe.”

As the sun slowly sank beyond the horizon, I saw the moon - lit brightly in the sky - and smiled. “She’s coming.”

“Who is coming?”

Turning my head, I just barely flashed her my grin but remained silent. She would find out soon enough.

Just then, the night sky shimmered. The moon glowed with more intensity than ever before, and a young - approximately twelve-year-old - girl in a silver tiara appeared from the wood. An entourage of girls ran alongside her, all dressed in silver tunics and silver pants, with silver bows and silver quivers of silver arrows. Hoods of rich grey and white fur adorned their heads.

They approached, stopping maybe twenty feet away. Eyes of all colours observed us cautiously, but my attention was only focused on the harsh yellowish-silver orbs staring back at me. She seemed to be studying me as if evaluating whether or not I was worthy of answering. Her eyes soon shifted to Zoe, who - when the girls had appeared - shuffled behind me slightly.

Zoe stared right back at the girls, dark eyes full of caution, but also vivid curiosity. I could almost feel the distrust coming off her in waves, its foul, bitter smell only sweetened by a ray of hope.

I began to lead her forward, to meet them in the middle.

One step.

Two.

Three.

On the fourth step, they all sprung into action, and all arrows were suddenly pointed at us - well… me.

I said, “This young maiden wishes to join you, my lady. She seeks sanctuary, and I immediately thought that you and your Hunters could provide for her what she is looking for.”

Artemis stared at me intensely. A long hard moment passed before her eyes suddenly widened, then narrows. She opened her mouth, lips wrapping around a word that I hadn’t been expecting. She cried, “You!” with such realization in her voice that I knew I was a goner.


	12. Consequences

Artemis rushed up and grabbed me by the chiton. “How are you here? It’s been centuries!” Her teeth were bared viciously as she snarled. 

I fumbled, stuttering. Her face was so close to mine that I could smell her lavender-breath; we were sharing the same air and I suddenly felt subconscious about how terrible my breath must have smelt - seeing as I hadn’t been able to brush in several days and I probably had gingivitis. 

“I...um… I don’t know!” I ended up saying because that just seemed more believable than the truth. 

“That’s not an answer! Tell me the truth!” she demanded. Her hunters were gathering around us, some confused, some in shock, and some just emoting aggression because it seemed like the right thing to do. 

“I’m not lying!” I said; I wasn’t, really, because I didn’t know why I travelled to the times that I did. I still did not know the purpose of my adventures or if I would ever be able to go home, but telling her about Kronos was definitely out of the question if I wanted to live. 

She stared at me and it felt like the quicksilver of her eyes were reaching deep into my soul. “Your mind hides from me; that is unusual,” she admitted, then leaned back, though her hold was as strong as ever on my arms. She looked to her hunters. “Keep him here. He is our prisoner until we return to Olympus for the solstice.” 

Oh, lucky me. I knew I had to escape soon, or something  _ really _ bad would happen. I just hoped that Zoe found her place and did not hate men as much as I remembered from my mortal lifetime. If she found a home with the hunters then it would all be worth it. So, even as they tossed me to the ground, wrapped in heavy silver chains, I smiled. I watched as they led Zoe to Artemis’ tent so that she could take her oath, and I knew she would be just fine. 

“What provokes that jeering grin, boy?” one sneered, and I looked to see that the hunters guarding me were all glaring profusely. The wolves, young and athletic, and somehow both tame and wild at the same time, were snarling, their hackles raised and teeth gleaming with cleanliness that wasn’t natural. I briefly pondered whether they brushed their wolves’ teeth, and possibly if they have an extra brush because I really needed a thorough cleaning. I didn’t answer the hunters and left them to scoff and leave to attend to their duties, though the wolves remained around me, ready to strike if I so much as made a move. 

Soon, Zoe returns from her talk with Artemis, looking better and freer than I’d ever seen. She was no longer the scared, young girl I found in the garden but was closer to the one I remembered from that cold night in Maine (though happier). That was good. 

At the campfire that night, which wasn’t long after because of the time, she tells them her story about Hercules, but then surprises them about how I saved her and brought her here, even at my own risk. She admits that she will never trust men the same way, because she doesn’t know if any of them will be like Hercules, but she is adamant about me being the exception. I blushed under her praise, thankful that the darkness of the night and the red glow of the fire hiding the colour in my cheeks. 

The hunters looked at me with confusion in their softened gazes, but Artemis held her reserve, levelling me with as harsh a glare as ever. “It does not matter what he did; it must be a ruse, and anyway, he must be brought before my father so that we may unravel this mystery.” 

“What mystery, milady?” one hunter asked. 

“This  _ boy _ appeared, centuries ago, to aid us in our battle against the earth mother Gaea and her giants. Then, during our celebratory meeting, he vanished in the same unexplained manner. I sense a dark curse upon his brow and we must discover its source. Until then, this boy is a threat to Olympus.” 

After the campfire, Artemis beckoned her hunters to bring me to her tent for “preliminary interrogation”. The hunters grinned sadistically, knowing that I would probably come out with more bruises than going in. They knew that their mistress wasn’t at all forgiving when it came to my gender, and she would do whatever it took to get answers out of me. I was dumped on the floor in the tent that didn’t seem to have changed much since the first time I’d been in it (technically in the future) the only differences were minor, such as a few missing furs and the lack of the fawn that had been in her lap. 

“So, boy, why are you really here?” 

I looked up at her, hoping that making eye contact would convey my sincerity. “Honestly, I do not know, milady. I cannot control the curse - as you said - that I have. I jump through time at random, and it seems that in every time period I am spat out in, I complete my task and then keep going to another one.” 

“Is that all Zoe is to you, then? A task to be completed so that you may move on?” she pressed. 

I sat up suddenly, affronted by the accusation. The chains pulled on my wrists painfully. “Of course not! I helped her because that was the right thing to do! My tasks are mostly just to observe a certain event, but I act because I have a moral compass. I’m not just some heartless boy that’s going to whine about never being able to see his family or friends ever again!” 

Artemis stood, either slightly shocked by my exclamation or completely passive about it - though her face was always schooled into a calm facade so I couldn’t tell either way. “Maybe you do fight for what is right, but I still have my suspicions,  _ boy _ . I will postpone forming my opinions of you, but for now, I want to hear more about this curse of time travel you claim to have.” 

I balked. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that, but… what was the harm in explaining? As long as I didn’t reveal too much about the future I was fine. Of course, it was always possible for Kronos to escape his prison anyway, especially in the far future with someone to aid him. It was inevitable, even though I’d have to be careful about revealing who or what or when, because if so, I’d be interfering in the timeline, and if Kronos was prevented from returning, then he could never curse me to go back in time to explain, and then his return could never be prevented. Wow. Time travel is something stupid to be sure. 

“The first thing you need to know is that I’m from the future, and that means that I need to be really careful about what I tell you, because-” 

“Because it might change the timeline in ways that are unimaginable and interfere with the entire fabric of space and time, possibly destroying our entire existence? Yes, I know, but do not take me for a fool; it is obvious that your father is Poseidon. That’s not news to me, as he has plenty of demigod children. Just...tell me as much as you think is safe. No specifics. Do not give me dates. Do not give me names. Do not give me ideas. Just tell me about this curse and what brought it on. I can only assume it was my grandfather, Kronos, but then again, we Olympians suspect that he will escape his prison eventually. Not all prisons are sure things, after all.” 

“Yes,” I replied cautiously, “And I am a demigod - I won’t tell you who my parentage is because that might affect me when I am born in the future but know that I was fighting Kronos and he cursed me to jump through time. I still don’t know why I go to the places that I do, and I cannot control when and where and why I go to the time periods that I go to. I think that I can just make the best of it and wait for the next one to drag me away.” 

Artemis nodded in understanding, though I still had the feeling that my story didn’t change her opinion of me being a filthy pig. I was okay with that, I guess. “We shall go to Olympus and my father will hear your story, then decide what to do with you. However, I fear that you will be taken away from us before we reach a decision, and I can only hope that you continue to use this curse for good, as I have seen you do twice now already.” 

I nodded seriously. “I will, milady. You don’t need to have any doubts about that. I will only ever use my curse to help people. I may not know where I will end up or why this keeps happening, but I won’t ever abuse it,” I told her. “I swear it by the River Styx.” Thunder boomed in the distance, and I might have imagined it, but I saw Artemis’ shoulders relax just slightly as I didn’t spontaneously burn up in front of her.

* * *

Several days later, it was time for the Solstice Meeting. Why I was still around, I have no idea. Maybe I needed to be at the meeting - to see something important? I was still confused, even as I was marched into the throne room on that dark day and placed in front of Zeus and the other gods. 

Artemis took her seat but immediately began to speak. I knew that she was informing them of my story - though only of the facts that she knew and could assume so as to not mess up the timeline. I had admitted to her on the journey to Olympus that I did not trust myself to keep the details to myself, so she, understanding and accepting that all males are stupid enough to destroy the universe by their inability to stop talking about themselves (her words, not mine), had decided to take on the responsibility to tell the story. I didn’t listen to everything she had to say, but I assumed she did a very good job because, by the end, Zeus looked less angry and more understanding than he normally did (which was still far more angry than understanding, but...you get the idea). 

“Perseus,” thundered Zeus, “While this curse concerns me, we all knew that my father would rise from his prison eventually, and I can only pray that the future will be safe from his wrath. I do not trust you, but I must concede that you have still done Olympus great services, both known and unknown - it seems. For this, we will award you with a single wish, and, if it is within reason and within our power as the Olympian Council, we shall grant it.” 

This seemed partially out of character for Zeus, but maybe being many centuries younger, he was less bitter about life (eternity). 

“With all due respect, Lord Zeus, I don’t have any wishes. None that you could grant me, I’m sure, because the only thing I want is for this curse to end. I’ll continue to serve Olympus, but I can only hope that one day I’ll be allowed to go home to see my family and friends again.” 

I met Hestia’s eyes and she gave a secret nod of understanding, sharing her warmth with me through a comforting smile. I returned it just as I felt the familiar warmth taking over my body. “I’m leaving now,” I told them. “I can feel it.” 

Just as I predicted, a portal unfolded into reality behind me and I was pulled back into it. I gave Artemis a small wave before disappearing completely.


	13. The Modest Lady

He was an old hand at this by now, so when Percy was spat out in his newest era, he obviously landed on his feet...before immediately falling to the dirt. “Ow…” he muttered, rubbing his aching backside. How much more punishment could his keister take? Then again...despite what his mind was telling him, he felt nothing but a vague tingle in his back. 

He looked around, mentally preparing himself for what his next task would be, however his surroundings didn’t give him any clues. It looked almost exactly the same as the forest he’d last arrived in if a bit greener and overgrown. A padded mat of moss and needles cushioned his sandalled feet, and the entangling branches of laurel and ash trees cast dabbled shadows over his himation. 

“Where am I now?” he asked. “Or more importantly,  _ when _ am I? And will this curse ever give me a break?” His clothes had barely changed from the previous time, so he expected Ancient Greece, but  _ when _ ? He wasn’t exactly an expert on the pre-era fashions of ancient civilizations. 

Several hours of aimless wandering found him collapsed under a skyscraper of living wood. The colossal tree’s thick roots broke out of the ground like grasping tentacles, and made for a nobbly yet comfortable bench. He stretched, expecting to feel a pleasant burn in his muscles from all of the walking, especially in the horribly unsupportive soles of his sandals, but found nothing. No straining, no aching, nothing. 

“Why am I not tired?” In fact, not only did he not feel any effects from the half-day of trekking through the unruly forest, he had more energy to spare than ever before. This could only mean one thing. 

He took the golden apple out of his bag and inspected it. The fruit, though still brilliantly polished gold, no longer had the glow one associated with it. It was lacklustre in comparison to its previous glory. “Did that jump have something to do with it? Did it make me into an immortal?” 

He didn’t know if he wanted to test it, so he replaced the apple and decided to keep going. If it was his fate to be here, in this time and this place, whatever it was that he was fated to do would appear before him - one way or another. And it did, just not in the way he expected it to. 

A reverberating scream rang out across the forest clearing that he’d landed in. Following it, Percy came across a beautiful woman in a classic greek chiton leaning heavily against a tree. Her abdomen was swollen with child, and very obviously she was nearly ready to give birth. Percy had never known many pregnant women, and so this inexperience stayed his being in hesitation. He shuffled between his feet. There was no one else around, and she might need help. 

“My lady, is there...any way I could assist you?” he called out. 

The woman looked up, and Percy immediately knew that he’d done the right thing. Her face was beaded with sweat, brows furrowed in concentration. “I shouldn’t be having difficulty,” she said, surprising Percy with the steadiness of her melodious voice. “But a jealous young godling has ordered that I may not birth my children. The nymphs are forbidden from welcoming me to rest and deliver them.” 

A rush of anger washed over him, though he couldn’t let it show. They would deal with that issue later; their current challenge was finding somewhere she could give birth. Though...this story gave Percy pause: it was familiar to him. Now, he chided himself for dozing during Annabeth’s Greek history lessons - who knew they’d come in handy? If only he could remember who this woman was and why she was so important. 

“Well, um...I’m not sure what I could do to help all that much, but...I could journey with you to find somewhere? Surely there is a place we can go for you to have your children.” 

If Percy was being honest with himself, he had absolutely no idea what to do, or even what he could do to help the situation in general. Was this his task? To help this lady give birth to what he assumed would be twins? Wait. Twins? Could this be? Percy froze for a moment, then everything came rushing back to him, nearly knocking him off his feet with the realization. 

“That would be wonderful, young man,” the woman said kindly as he took her arm around his shoulders. Her free hand rested firmly (lovingly) on her stomach, which Percy felt pressed against his side. He felt a slight movement thumping against him. 

Though he had no clue where they were meant to be heading, Percy let his mind settle and followed the force drawing him to the sea. If anything, he felt an innate desire to go there - they could find help there. He didn’t know how he knew, but he wouldn’t ignore his instincts - they were almost always right. 

They walked in silence until the sun was low in the sky and Percy had finally worked up the courage to ask. “We’ve been travelling for a while, now. I think we should at least know each others’ names.” 

She nodded as he carefully lowered her onto a large boulder. As she caught her breath, he peeked around, seeing unfamiliar and unfriendly eyes peering from the shadows. There they were - the nymphs who wouldn’t let them rest. He’d kept his eye out for them ever since meeting up with the mysterious woman, always seeing them at the edges of his vision, though they did nothing to interfere as long as they kept moving. 

“I’m Percy, by the way,” he said quickly. 

She smiled up at him, having levelled her breathing, and raised a hand to signal that they should return to their trek. “I am Leto, Titaness of modesty,” she introduced humbly. 

Percy’s next breath was taken sharply. Of course. With his suspicions confirmed, he knew exactly what to do. Well…he would if he could remember what Annabeth had told him. He remained silent after a short and customary “pleasure to meet you” as he wracked his brain for the answer. If only he could remember the one piece of information he needed to know. Leto was one of the original titans. One day, she and Zeus met, fell in love, and that was how she became pregnant with the twin archers, gods of the sun and moon, Artemis and Apollo. However, Hera - Zeus’ wife - was jealous, and hereby declared that she was not to give birth to her children on any land tied to the earth. There was some way around that - Percy knew it - but what could it be? All land was tied to the earth - that’s what made it land! but there had to be some way around that! If there wasn’t, then Artemis and Apollo would never have been born, and would just continue to grow within their mother’s womb, like how the original Olympians were trapped within Kronos’ stomach for the beginnings of their lives. Without finding his answer, Percy is pulled from his inner musings by a gentle tug on his arm. Leto was looking at him with concern. 

“Percy? We have arrived...somewhere. Is this where we were headed?” she asked. 

He looked up. Being lost in his thoughts had left their wanderings up to fate, so hopefully, they hadn’t gotten hopelessly lost in the meantime. Thankfully, they weren’t. The reason Leto had stopped was because there was nowhere left to go. They’d reached the shore, and stood on soft sand to stare out at the expanse of crystal-blue sea, bespeckled with the visages of bush-clouds. 

“Um…” He blinked at the scene. There was nothing in sight besides the glittering of the water, the endless expanse of Poseidon’s briny domain...the island slowly floating by in the distance! Percy could hardly believe he’d missed it! He could hardly believe that he’d forgotten the most important detail of Artemis and Apollo’s birth! They’d been born on the island of Delos - the floating island! It was their birth that then anchored the island to the seafloor and cast it in beautifully colourful daisies. That was where they had to go, but how to do so? What more could Percy do to get Leto to the island? It was so far off the coast, a mere blip in the eternal yawning of the calm ocean. 

“We must sail across,” he told her, pointing. “There. To the island.” 

She looked at him in horror. “Percy, please, we cannot. We don’t even have a boat, and...my children are children of Zeus. we cannot cross the sea. We’d be incurring Poseidon’s wrath. I cannot risk the safety of my children.” Despite her exhaustion, she pushed away from him. 

“There is no other way. Would you prefer to keep your children from the world entirely?” He looked up and down the coast. Just up the beach, a small Greek sailboat was materializing just out of the corner of his eye. “And don’t worry about a boat. There’s one right here for us to use.” She still hesitated, and Percy cast a gentle smile in her direction, along with his hand. “Besides, I doubt Poseidon would overturn our boat with me in it. He wouldn’t dare.” 

Taking his hand, Leto looked up at his as he guided her over to the vessel. “Just who are you?” she asked if a little impolite. 

“Never mind that. We must get you to the island. As soon as she was seated, he raised his hands and the boat readied itself for the open water, then lurched off from the shore toward the island. 

Their journey was quick and smooth - nearly over - and yet Percy didn’t want it to end. He’d enjoyed his time with Leto, and while they hadn’t spoken much during their time together, he felt comforted by her presence. The surface of the ocean parted cleanly around their boat, leaving the slightest of ripples as if they were sailing above the water rather than through it. Percy took this time to glance at the ocean with sorrow - but also warm longing. If only the ocean could stay like this forever. Alas, humans, with their machines and their pollution, would darken these waters with death and despair. He could sympathize with Grover and all of the satyrs’ desire to keep the world clean and alive, now more than ever, because he could plainly see the state that humans left their world. 

They docked on the shore and were instantly swarmed by nymphs. Dryads and naiads and oreads - it seemed that every single nymph on the island had come to greet them. They assisted the exhausted Leto from the boat to bring her to a mossy bed as her breathing became ragged. 

Percy smiled, and, knowing that his duty was done, turned to leave. However, just then, there was a brilliant flash of light, sending his heart to his stomach. Was it Hera? Had he done something wrong? Was this not the island of Delos, and the nymphs would be punished by the ruthless goddess in her search for revenge? 

“Peace, young Perseus; I mean you no harm, godling.” It was another familiar voice, and he cast his eyes behind him to see Hestia, goddess of the hearth. 

“How do you know who I am?” he asked. 

She just smiled. “I can see all with my hearth, past and future. It seems that you are having quite the journey through time, young man.” She chuckled softly. 

“Yeah, I guess so. Have you come to help? Was it you who sent the boat?” 

At this, Hestia shook her head. “While I am here now, it was not I who sent the boat. That was you, young godling. You were the one to manifest the boat for yourself and the lady Leto, through your desire to help her.” 

He looked again at the boat, and this time - how had he missed it? - he saw the name engraved on the side:  _ Wisegirl _ . It was his nickname for Annabeth, and that alone brought tears to his eyes. He missed her. He missed her, and Grover, and Chiron, and his mother, and everyone else from the camp. Everyone from his old life was gone, or rather, they hadn’t been born yet, and here he was, travelling through time and doing tasks like some temporal butler, trying to keep the world from falling apart. Why did he have to keep jumping through time to make sure things happened like they were supposed to? Why couldn’t it just happen like it did before he came along? How did it even happen in the first place if he kept having to fix things from behind the scenes? Did everything happen this way in the first place and he’d just been so secret that no one kept a record of him? Or was his travelling in the time the very thing that was breaking it? Was this all part of Kronos’ plan, because so far, he’d only been travelling further and further back. Was his every move changing how the future would play out, and when - if - he ever returned to his own time, would it be completely different from what he remembered? Would he have even been born, or would he cease to exist? Would he just keep going back further and further until the universe was unmade and he would be alone in the empty expanse of nothingness?  _ Di immortals, time travelling is confusing. _ He wished that there was a way to understand what exactly was happening to him without bursting his last two brain cells, but then again, who knew if they weren’t already burst from all this craziness? 

“What do I do now?” he asked Hestia. 

“I guess that’s up to you,” she replied before joining the nymphs at Leto’s side, leaving him alone to his chaotic thoughts.


	14. Men Suck!

Though I wasn’t able to figure out my next move, I did manage to settle my rushing thoughts, and once they were calm, I returned to the others. My feet shuffled as I walked, resisting the forward movement. The soft breeze brought sweet nectar to my nose and ruffled my messy locks of hair; it tickled its way along the back of my neck and around my arms. With it came the cries of small children; Artemis and Apollo were now in the world. The air grew thick, the breeze sinking with the weight of the new power among us.

A smile curved along my lips. Who else could say that they’d witnessed the birth of the twin archers? (Not me, but pretty close)

Leto sagged against the grooved bark of a palm tree with beads of sweat trickling down her face, and yet, despite this, the smile adorning her lips nearly split her face as she watched the two young gods frolic in the grass in front of her. A boy and a girl, already clothed in gold and silver fabric respectively, darted back and forth in the forms of toddlers. They were playing...rather, Artemis was chasing after Apollo, who sang teasing remarks at the top of his lungs back at her. He clutched a stick in each of his chubby toddler hands, pausing every chance he got to smack them against the rocks and trees, tapping out funky rhythms.

I guess this was where their rivalry began because even as they remained innocent to the harsh realities of the world, I could see hints of their signature personalities already shining through. Apollo’s taunting grew ever louder as Artemis ground her teeth, wielding a large branch - that seemed to be far too big for a child of her size to be able to lift, let alone run with. I chuckled.

“Perseus.” Leto smiled as she saw me. “I cannot thank you enough for what you have done for me. You found a place for my children to be born, and you brought me to it, all without concern for yourself. Please, what can I do to repay your great kindness?” She met my eyes with large, searching ones.

“I...um…” I paused, my tongue in knots. “Nothing, my lady; I need nothing from you; I expect nothing from you. I did what I did because it was the right thing to do, no more, no less.” 

Leto laughed, her breath coming in short puffs. “You amuse me with your humility, my hero. Please, if you take no reward for your actions, I invite you to stay with us; feast and be merry, for this is a momentous occasion.” Her eyes flickered over to her children and sparkled with joy I’d only ever seen before in my own mother’s eyes. 

“Believe me, I know,” I agreed. “I would be honoured to stay.”  _ For as long as I can _ ...went unsaid. I wondered when this task would be complete. Of course, maybe helping Leto wasn’t my task, but seeing her, I  _ knew _ that I had to do something. While the jumps were still a mystery to me, I found myself thinking of Kronos’ curse as less of a curse with each moment that passed. After all, how could this possibly be a curse? There was the possibility that he expected me to fail in these tasks - that history would be rewritten (maybe destroyed) and I’d feel the pain of guilt weighing on my shoulders in knowing that I was at fault for the rest of eternity. Then again, I hardly doubt that Kronos had enough time in his last seconds to come up with this entire, dastardly scheme. His intentions would always remain a mystery, but I would make the best out of this situation, and maybe, just maybe, I’d see my family again.

* * *

I’d been staying with Leto and her children for three whole weeks and yet, the jump had not occurred. How come? I spent almost every waking minute pondering the logic of my curse, however - like Annabeth was always telling me - I wasn’t one of many brains, so nothing came to mind except for a craving for blue corn chips (which lasted for a span of three days).

“Perseus.”

I shifted my body to see Hestia. “Yes, my lady?” I asked softly. Though we were the only ones around for miles, I felt the need to be quiet as the night settled over us. Helios’ light and warmth had long disappeared over the horizon, leaving Selene to cast the land in her cool, luminescent silver.

Gracefully, she perched herself on a boulder across from me. “You’ve been with us for just over a fortnight, now.”

“I have, my lady.”

“Leto and I, we appreciate your acts of kindness to us, but there is something that has left us puzzled. You are a minor god and yet we have not seen nor heard tell of you before our official meeting.”

My cheeks warmed. “Forgive me, my lady, but I’m not a god. I can’t be. I’m not even an immortal. Maybe you made a mistake.”

Her kind smile did not falter. “I think not, young hero. We are not easily misled; I can sense in you great power, but also great darkness. You have a curse, do you not?”

Perhaps she knew more than she’d originally let on, but I couldn’t tell her. I’d have to choose my words very carefully from now on, especially when this topic came up; I had a feeling that Kronos’ influence left many opportunities for me to mess up the timeline, and I couldn’t risk it. “I’m sorry, my lady, but I can’t tell you anything, even if I wanted to.”

“Perhaps we will be able to live with the mystery of you, young hero,” she replied. “I sense no ill intentions, and if you believe that we may not know of your secrets, there is a good reason.” With that, she stood and left, moving so smoothly across the field that I doubted her feet were even touching the ground. In front of me, several twigs flew into a pile and sparked alight, like a miniature explosion played in reverse.

I smiled, then grabbed another branch and poked at the fire, smiling as a few sparks darted up into the black eternity above me to join their kin, the stars.

Several hours later, and still, her words hung in the air above my head. Could I be immortal, a minor god? I  _ had _ summoned that boat. And even after so long, the golden apple still retained the dullness of its absent aura. Before this jump, I’d always been mortal, a demigod, but perhaps this was something new. Of course, I still didn’t know any details about my curse, let alone how it would react with objects I stole from each timeline I was sent to. Sure, my clothes changed to match my surroundings, and all other possessions I’d acquired during my travels did not stay with me - all except for the apple, which seemed just like any other (slightly metallic-looking) golden delicious. Perhaps its own mystical properties fused during the last jump?

A sigh escaped me - fully without my permission. I’d been pondering the same questions over and over again for the past three weeks, and still, no answers reached out to me.

If I was a minor god, what was I even the god of? Boats? I still felt the powers of my father Poseidon, and yet, they were skewed, like a package of glittery stickers pasted by a kindergartener. Perhaps I’ll never find out unless I find and speak with the Fates, but then again, seeing those little old ladies had never been on my to-do list. They could keep their sasquatch socks to themselves, thank you very much.

“Hello, Perseus.”

I guess I’d never get to finish pondering my existence.

“Hello, Artemis,” I greeted as the six-year-old form of the new goddess leap up into the boulder where Hestia once sat. She crossed her legs elegantly, curled auburn hair pulled back out of her face in a loose braid. She looked every bit the childish six-year-old, but at the same time, like a mature adult at the same time.

“Where have you been today?” I asked. “Has Apollo been bothering you again?”

She shrugged. “No, surprisingly. I just got back from visiting my father on Olympus, so I haven’t seen my twin all day.” She grinned happily.

“I see. And what did you and your father talk about? You haven’t visited him before.”

“He was surprised, at first. I guess he never expected my mother to become pregnant with Apollo and me. I would’ve visited him before, but of course, with queen Hera’s grudge against us, mother advised us against visiting Olympus until we had more control of our powers and abilities. Once father overcame his initial surprise, he was quite malleable to my wishes, though I fear I cannot say his true motives. I only asked for a few things - one for each month mother spent alone with Apollo and me after he abandoned her.” Artemis ground her teeth. “I wished to never be married, for I shall never fall in love; it brings nothing but trouble.”

“What makes you say that?”

“All males are scum! I saw them when I was on Olympus - all obtrusive imbeciles who care for nothing but their own gain. Like father pawing for mother's affection, only to leave her to the cold world, alone and shunned by all others. And now, my own brother follows in their footsteps - a young god as he is, chasing after the mortal maidens by singing their praises but leaving them unashamedly for the next skirt to catch his wandering eye. But I, I shall not stand for this treatment, for I shall never fall in love. I shall not fall under a male’s spell, like my poor mortal and immortal sisters.”

I nodded slowly, trying not to let the ache in my chest expand. “You make a fair point,” I replied, “Love hardly ever lasts, and when it finds you, many other forces seek to tear it away. But...this does not mean that I must turn your entire life away from others. A relation with others makes us strong - friends and familial love are out there, not just romance.”

Artemis met my eyes with hers. They shone like hardened steel, but melted before my eyes, matching the kind countenance of the loving mother moon. “But you are different, Perseus - different from the others. I need not turn my back on the world of men if there are those like you to redeem their selfish ways.” A white dove perched in the silver of her eyes. “Will you be my friend, Perseus? Now and forever?

I flashed a lopsided grin her way. “Of course I will. I’ll always be your friend Artemis because friends will always be in each others’ hearts.”

“But I won’t have to rely on my heart for you, Perseus,” she replied. “Because you’ll always be here, won’t you? You won’t leave us.”

I looked down. Of all the bad timing, I could feel the tugging of the timestream. I could sense my seconds slipping away. “I would never wish to, Artemis, but it won’t always be my choice.” I stood and crossed to kneel in front of her. “But don’t be afraid. Even if I cannot be here for you, does not mean that you won’t have me here.”

“What are you saying?”

The portal unfolded, its bright un-light both blinding and shadowing all around us. I could only see the gentle glow of her eyes like twin moons before me. “I must leave now, Artemis. I’m sorry that I could not stay with you, but fear not, we will meet again. I know it.” My hands were ripped from hers, no matter how tightly she held me. The forces of my curse drove us apart like magnets, and the portal swallowed me.


	15. Hello, My Name is No-Body

I woke with a start, only to find myself hovering far higher than the ground was supposed to be. In fact, the ground was far below me - an angular obsidian hallway, so polished that I could only imagine the poor schmuck that was responsible for the task.

Wait.

If that was true, I should’ve been able to see  _ my own _ reflection, but there was nothing as I stared at the floor below. I spun around to see if any of the other surfaces were working properly, tried to see what crazy new life I’d been sucked into - but there was nothing. I looked down.

Oh.

_ Oh. _

The mirrored walls were working just fine. It was me that had the problem. That problem being that I didn’t have a body. That sucks. No body, and yet, testing my fingers and toes, I could still feel a form, just not physically present. How would that even work?

Not wanting to give myself a headache just thinking about it, I instead focused on the air around me, pulling molecules of water together. I formed a shape, roughly humanoid, but not quite like my old body. Why couldn’t I remember my old body? Was it never there? Was it never real?

I looked down at my watery hands. They were solid and yet, not solid. They flowed, rippling and dancing in the air, dripping onto the floor but never getting any smaller. And even as the water hit the floor, something like an invisible vacuum sucked it up and each drop was reabsorbed into my feet. 

I took a step forward, eyeing the wall. Now, I had a reflection - an eyeless, faceless form staring back at me in the black glassy surface. The only thing that marred its surface was a line of gold braziers, each carrying a flickering torch that cast spindly shadows along the seemingly endless hallway.

Where was I? It seemed familiar like I’d been here in a dream, but then again, I’d had so many demigod dreams that it was entirely possible I’d been  _ everywhere _ . Could this be from my original life? Was I finally back? If so, would anyone recognize me without my body? Maybe I’d just be stuck like this, the final curse of this crazy existence, to finally be back, but without face or form. Kronos really must’ve hated me for killing his host body. (He’d been so close to world domination, too, when I’d ruined his plans.)

_ Whoa. _

Honestly, the strangest sensation is when your whole body  _ ripples _ . Don’t recommend it. I felt like a waterbed that someone had decided to use as a trampoline. My head felt light and nausea shook my nonexistent stomach, which may or may not have switched to the other side of my body. 

Whoever was stomping down the halls had better have a good explanation for this, because they were about to get an earful from yours truly. Surely it must be rude to treat your watery guest with such inconsiderately rumbling footsteps. It was rattling all the way through my liquid bones.

There was a clash of metal on glass coming closer, and I whirled around to see the reflection of a strangely humanoid - though not fully mortal - figure, not unlike myself, though this one wasn’t made of water. I couldn’t judge his size based on the hallway nor myself, but something deep inside me told me his was huge. A titan.

A shudder passed through me, which must’ve looked really weird. 

I knew exactly where I was. I was in the Titans’ palace, The Black Castle, high above Ancient Greece on Mt. Othrys. That meant...the walls weren’t actually obsidian, but the rare metal that Kronos’ cyclops slaves had built it out of. This was  _ not _ on my list of Top Five Tourist Destinations.

My whole body splashed to the ground and dissipated into vapour just as the titans rounded the corner because the reflection hadn’t done him justice. I didn’t recognize the titan in front of me, but accompanying him was one that I knew all too well. And I wish he was back in the oak tree right about now.

“Hyperion,” said the unknown titan, “we are already the higher beings. There is no need to keep proving your power and dominance over the mortals.” His eyes glinted like freshly minted silver coins, and his hair was nearly as brilliantly metallic, though his face showed none of the signs of age that came with the shade of his locks. It looked wild like he was emulating Einstein - or maybe Einstein had decided to steal  _ his _ look, seeing as this guy obviously came earlier.

“Iapetus,” Hyperion (hate him) replied, “there is no way that these beings could ever be anything more than the insects we trample upon! I’m just acting in tune with how things are meant to be.”

Einstein frowned. “That may be true, brother, but they are fragile creatures all the same. There is no reason you should terrify the measly things; they are no threat to you. Do you just find sport in it?”

Hyperion gave a bark of laughter. His expression told of a child found snooping around his Christmas presents early. His eyes gleamed even brighter than before, with malicious intent. “Maybe a little,” he admitted. “Those pathetic beings will always be snivelling cowards. Scaring them is child’s play and I find their screams so delightful!”

His brother sighed, shaking his head. They were almost upon me, so close that I could see the stress lines forming in his otherwise lumpy forehead. They walked past, but for a second - a terrifying second - Iapetus stopped and  _ looked _ at me. At least, I thought so. His eyes held a spark, a light that was different from Hyperion’s but still a sure promise of doom. They were the eyes of a predator - a snake that hungry for its next meal, but too tired to launch itself forward, instead just waiting in the grass for eternity.

Then, he looked away and my heart resumed beating. Had it been a trick of the light?

After they passed, I watched them go. They turned the next corner - which was almost invisible in the endless maze of reflective hallways - and I willed myself another body from the water vapour in the air. I knew everything I needed to know. I was in the era of the Titans. It was a terrifying time that I’d only heard of during campfire or when Chiron gave warnings of the ancient past. It was the time that I’d been fighting for the past four years to prevent happening again, but now, what was I meant to do? Was this what Kronos had wanted all along? To bring me back to the time when he’d held all the power in the world? A time when he could finish me off for good?

I shook my head, sending a splash of water against the wall. That couldn’t be it; he wouldn’t even remember me in this timeline. And what was with not giving me my own body? I could feel a great power deep in my core, just like the warmth of ambrosia in my stomach. This power held a weight, too, and flowed through me like the tides of the ocean, each wave sending fuzzy tingles all the way down to my toes. Even though I still didn’t have toes.

Instead of just standing around not knowing what to do, I rushed forward to follow Hyperion and Iapetus. Moving was unlike anything I’d felt before - and was much harder, too, in this new form. It was like swimming, but not. I was just a current in the wind, my body was a fluid that twisted and folded in on itself. 

I wasn’t sure whether my foot or my nose was the first thing that entered the throne room, only that I slipped under the door and reformed a little jumbled on the other side. I stayed in the shadows of a pillar (one of many; who needed so many pillars?) as I rearranged my inner and outer organs because even though they technically didn’t exist, I couldn’t live with the weird feeling of having my lungs sitting at the bottom of my left foot.

I peeked out from behind the pillar.

The Fates were in the middle of the throne room, looking nothing like their modern-day counterparts, but still different from the mace-wielding versions of themselves that I’d met during the battle against the Giants. My heart skipped a beat, and I was sure I’d have an aneurism right then and there. The Fates were beautiful young ladies! (That was the straw that broke the camel’s back for me. I couldn’t handle it.)

They stood tall and proud instead of hunched over their knitting like grouchy grannies. Each radiated a warm glow as if the air around them had turned to butter, which would’ve explained the unrealistic smooth rosiness of their cheeks. They wore long, pure-white robes, with ripples and infinite folds looping around their shoulders and waists.

And somehow, they managed to still look gloriously beautiful, even though they were furious. No lie, their faces were skewed, mouths jagged scars of barred teeth and eyebrows like dark clouds over the chaotic storms of their glares.

“Kronos,” cried all three Fates in unison. Their syncopated voices echoed through the entire room, which only magnified them. “Unfit tyrant of these lands: you shall share your father’s fate! This world will be inherited by your very own children upon your fall to the depths of Tartarus at their hands. Your body will be severed into one thousand pieces by your very own blade and scattered far and wide, never to be reunited.”

Kronos, once lounging in his throne, sat up as if stuck by a long pin. His eyes cast to the side, where a female titan stood, looking heavily pregnant. This was obviously Rhea, his wife. I could almost imagine what was going through his head as his golden gaze fell upon her midsection, which held Hestia, no doubt.

He looked back at the Fates, but I never heard his answer, for as he opened his mouth, my vision suddenly became a blur, and the throne room melted before my eyes.


	16. Hell Hath No Fury like a Titan King Slapped Across the Face

Just when I thought I was done randomly appearing and disappearing, it happened again. I was in a different room, yet again without my body, which I guess I should be used to by now, even though it's still the weirdest thing in the world - like waking up to find that you weren’t actually at school with no pants. Though I guess in this case, I was the opposite. (no legs equals no pants)

It didn’t really matter that I didn’t have a body in this new room, because it was so dark that even if I did, I wouldn’t have been able to see it. Compared to the drafty throne room, it was small and cozy, with long, high windows that didn’t really do anything, because they were far too narrow to let in light or air. In other words, there was no reason that they should be there, but who was I to judge other people’s architectural tastes? I’ll leave that to Wise Girl.

Darn. Shouldn’t have thought of Annabeth. My heart quivered in my chest as her smile flashed across my mind’s eye. Why was I like this?  _ Hurry, find something to distract me... _

The walls were made of the same black glass, so I guessed that I was still in the Black Castle - Kronos’ castle. It was still as dark and spooky as ever, firstly, because of who it belonged to, but also because the torches that lined the room did nothing in the way of lighting the space. The flames were green - and not a nice green, either; they were the gross blue-green that you’d expect to find on the sandwich that you forgot about in your locker over the winter break.

_ Whaaaaa! _

Despite not having feet, I nearly jumped out of my non-skin. My consciousness ballooned toward the ceiling, then slowly dropped again as I cast my gaze toward the source of the sound. In the gloom, I could see a bed. There was a woman sitting up against the pillows - which were more mountain than pillow and obviously weren’t stuffed with feathers. They were more like piles of rocks with small square sheets tossed over them, but the woman didn’t seem to be in any discomfort - beyond the sheen of sweat that glowed across her face.

Her face resembled that of Leto’s; it was an expression that I recognized. She’d just given birth. Once again, it seemed that the Fates had smiled down on me because I hadn’t had to witness it. I nearly gave a sigh of relief. I was  _ so _ not ready for that. (I probably won’t be until I’m actually old enough to be a father. As of now, I’m not.)

I approached carefully, not sure if she could see me or not. She didn’t make any moves, so I safely appeared at her side, looking down at the baby in her arms. No offence to the woman, but the baby - despite being newly born - was much better looking than her. In school, I heard that babies were supposed to be very ugly when they were first born, but I couldn’t believe that looking down at this baby. It - I couldn’t tell since it was wrapped in a blanket - wasn’t at all a wrinkly pink mess like the Health teachers told you.

“So, this is to be the first of the gods.”

I jumped again. Maybe I should be more spatially aware. I blame not having a body. I turned to see Kronos emerge from the shadows like some kind of wraith. With his robes and scythe, I could’ve easily mistaken him for the grim reaper - maybe that was where the myth started. Some old guy probably saw Kronos go out for a walk and was like “Ah! That guy is so scary! He’s probably here to kill me!” then everyone started thinking it.

“Yes.” Rhea - because  _ obviously  _ she was Rhea, mother of the gods - spoke softly.

Kronos glared down at the child like it carried the plague. That was true, in a way. He took yet another step closer, hovering over us ominously. Hestia was sobbing as his form darkened the room, but then, all of a sudden, she wasn’t. Her sobs just...halted.

I tore my eyes away from Kronos to check that she hadn’t just spontaneously combusted, which, thankfully, she hadn’t. No. Instead, she just stopped and looked at me. Like... _ looked _ at me - right at me! Time seemed to have stopped. It was Iapetus had done earlier, but how could that be? I was still invisible - Rhea and Kronos proved that - so why could only certain people see me?

I stumbled backwards, and the moment was broken. Time resumed. Hestia’s crying resumed.

“Then she shall perish. I will not have my rule be compromised by my own children!” With that, he plucked Hestia from her mother’s arms like a cluster of grapes and downed her just as quickly.

“No!” Rhea cried out as soon as her baby left her arms, but she was too late. With a single gulp, baby Hestia disappeared down Kronos’ gullet.

I growled, which was silent to all in the room. My body moved on its own as I dove across the bed to grab Kronos and make him release her, but I just hit the floor on the other side of the bed. What? My hands phased right through Kronos as I tried yet again to grab him.

I couldn’t do anything.

I looked down at my hands - where my hands  _ should have been _ . Of course I couldn’t. I wasn’t really there. I was just a consciousness in this time, floating around to be an observer, but not able to help change what happened. I’d never been so helpless before. Even as I tried to bring the water vapour together, it was like someone had dehumidified the entire room. The more I tugged, the drier the air seemed. My throat became scratchy.

It seems like this event was set in stone. There was nothing I could do to change it. Looking back over at Rhea, who was now clutching herself with trembling arms. Kronos was long gone already, but she shook like a leaf in the wind; I feared she’d crumble to dust at any moment.

“My baby…”

My heart broke, like someone had cut away a little piece. The first thought that came to mind was my own mother. I’d left her to go save the world. How could I do that? She made me promise to come back...but I guess I’d never be back.

My consciousness shuddered as my mother’s heartbroken face flashed behind my invisible eyelids. I couldn’t think of that now. One day, I’d go back. One day.

I wouldn’t forget this event. Nor any of the events that followed. I watched each time the new baby gods were born. Each time that Kronos held them in his dark, scarred hands, bringing them up to his unhinged jaw to eat them.

(I couldn’t bring myself to watch my father disappear down the darkness of the Mad Titan’s throat.)

Zeus was next, I told myself. Finally, I could do something. I knew from the old legends that Zeus was the one to escape, so I couldn’t just stand by as time flowed around me. With every ounce of power I had in me, I reached out, latching onto the time stream with both hands. I wouldn’t allow myself to be taken any further into the past’s future. And my call was answered. Somehow, someway, a new power erupted from deep within me, like the warmth of creamy hot cocoa seeping into my soul.

I pulled back against the flow of time, and it ceded to my command. It didn’t take me further, didn’t spit me out into a new time to watch the future king of the gods be swallowed alive. Instead, I saw Rhea, just after my father was devoured. She was still sitting in bed, sobbing for yet another of her lost children.

If Kronos was so concerned about his future, why did he keep having children? Why did he insist on torturing his wife by taking her children away?

This time, when I rested my hand on her shoulder, I didn’t phase through - I wasn’t a ghost. She looked up, startled to see nothing. Seconds later, my watery form resumed, and I gave her a puddle’s version of a smile.

“My lady,” I greeted.

Rhea just stared into my featureless face. “Who are you?”

“It doesn’t matter who I am. Just know that I’m here to help,” I replied. “Your children will be freed soon.”

She just wiped away a tear, only for it to be quickly replaced. There was no hope to be read from her expression. “How? All five of my children have been devoured by their own father.”

I was silent for only a moment, before I said, “Your sixth child. He will free them.”

She choked back another sob. It rolled over and died in her throat. “If I have another child, my husband will just devour him, too.”

“Don’t worry, my lady. This time will be different.”

“How?”

“This time, we will trick him. We will give him a fake baby - a decoy. Your sixth child will be safe, and then, he will free his siblings.” I told her the rest of my plan. Luckily, it was simple enough to bring the smile back to Rhea’s face. A new, fragile spark of hope ignited in her eyes. All we had to do was put the plan into action.

For the next few months, I became the ghost of the Black Castle. I haunted the halls, making sure that everything was in place for the fateful day when baby Zeus was born. No one saw me, of course, and there were no further unexpected jumps through time. I smiled every second that I couldn’t feel my curse flow through my veins like poison. This was what I was meant to do in this time - I could sense it. Let’s just hope that Kronos doesn’t sense my presence out-of-time before our plan can save his youngest godling.

Six months later on the dot, I got the message. The Queen of the Titans was about to give birth to her final Olympian child. I appeared impatiently in the room, clutching the infant-sized stone to my chest. It was more the size of a small turkey dinner and weighed twice as much, but I ignored that. My newly-discovered illusion charm would do the trick. Kronos would never tell the difference.

“Are you sure that this will work?” Rhea asked again. It was probably the seventeenth time she’d asked.

I grinned. Other people would’ve been tired of her concern by now, but I knew all too well that she had a reason to worry. I wasn’t going to judge her for that. This was a huge risk she was taking. “It’ll work. Trust me.”

“How do you know?”

“Because it happened before.”

“Before?”

“Don’t worry about it. Just know that your child will be safe, and one day, he will return to save his siblings and overthrow his father, just like the Fates said.”

Rhea just nodded hesitantly, and I knew that she still had questions, but she thankfully didn’t press any further. I took that as the single to set the final domino of our scheme tumbling. Vanishing yet again from the room, I reappeared just behind Kronos and slapped his upside the head.

He was startled, to be sure, then spun around. You know the saying  _ Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned _ ? Well, it seemed that Kronos was a woman, because  _ oh my gods _ he looked mad. The crazy grin that stretched across my face nearly tore through my cheeks as I darted out of the throne room, leading him through the castle with my cackling. Creating chaos was my specialty, but until now, I’d never had a reason to do it on purpose. It just sort of...happened, so I figured it would be even better if I actually  _ tried _ .

That was the only reason, of course. Absolutely no other reason that I was trying to make Kronos’ immortal life terrible - absolutely not! I was only thinking about the poor little Olympian gods I was trying to save.

The other Titans joined Kronos in his hunt, though they didn't have any idea what was going on or who they were chasing, and I have to say, it was the best thing I’d ever done! I can’t believe that Hyperion could even make that face! Nor did I know that a spear could be used like that!

I had just turned a corner to get back to the main gate of the castle when lightning struck the ground just outside. Thunder quickly followed, almost an immediate echo to the bright flash. The Titans were struck (haha. Get it?) dumb, but I knew what that meant.

Zeus had just been born.

I fell completely silent and returned to Rhea’s room. Now, like all the rest, she held the newborn in her arms. She gazed lovingly down at her third son - even more so because she knew that he would live; he would save his siblings from their terrible father and they would all live.

“Zeus,” I breathed, almost silently. It just slipped out.

She looked up, startled by my sudden presence, but all she said was, “How did you know that I was going to name him?”

I stuttered, feeling heat flush into my face. “I just had a feeling, I guess. Here, give him to me and I’ll take him somewhere safe.”

A reluctant smile - half a smile, half a frown - commandeered her lips, but she whispered a gentle goodbye and raised him up, this time letting go of her child willingly. It felt weird, to say the least, to hold my usually grumpy (now a baby) uncle in my arms, but I pushed the feelings aside. The new bundle - the rock wrapped in blankets - glowed in her arms as she lifted it. 

The humming of fifty thousand bees resonated through the room, until the rock transformed, becoming Zeus. The rock started to cry. Okay. Holding my baby uncle is officially no longer the weirdest thing that happened today.

After sobbing for a minute straight, the rock transformed back into a rock.

“What happened?” Rhea asked, glancing at it with concern.

“It’s fine,” I assured her. “You and I see it as a rock, but Kronos will not. He’ll see it as a baby, and devour it just like all the others. I just thought you wouldn’t want to see him eat yet another one of your children.” I hoisted baby Zeus more comfortably in my arms. He’d already fallen asleep in the past ten seconds. “I guess I’ll take my leave now.”

“Good luck,” she whispered.

“Thank you,” I replied just as quietly as I vanished again, this time with her child and her only hope for the future. It was just as the door slammed open, admitting Kronos, the king of the Titans.


	17. Zeus is Kind of a Rude Brat (with a Baby Face)

Eighteen years.

That's how long it took.

Eighteen long years and I still had yet to figure out how to regain my actual form. Don't get me wrong, being made of water is pretty useful, but it got annoying after a while, especially because no one could read my expressions when I talked to them; I had to be pretty careful with my words.

I spent those years watching and waiting - _very_ boring, mind you. Don't recommend it. Zeus was just living with his really loud...uncles; I'll call them. At first, I was pretty skeptical. I mean, I knew that he was raised by a company of clashing soldiers and I knew that they were loud, but knowing did nothing to prepare me for the actual insane loudness of them. (Certainly loud enough for Kronos not to hear his wailing, even though the future lord of the skies definitely had a healthy set of lungs in him. That's probably where all of his hot air came from.)

The boisterousness came not only from their spears and shields but also from their mouths, as the soldiers danced and sang and shouted cries into the heavens. What they were so happy about all the time, I'd never know. Maybe it was some sort of alcoholic beverage that came from one of Amalthea's teats. (She was a goat.) And just so you know, I didn't let baby Zeus drink the alcoholic version. That would be called irresponsible parenting.

Once Zeus was old enough - which was extremely confusing because gods' ages are stupid - the soldiers trained him to use weapons - swords, shields, spears, daggers, you name it; he learned to wield them all. I'm sorry to say that I had no part in it, despite how much I would've loved knocking my arrogant uncle onto his butt a couple of times, because there was no part in the legend where I'm supposed to be, and I can't go changing the future - only making sure that it happens as it should.

Eighteen years went by and I finally thought that he was ready. Zeus knew how to fight. He knew how to be sneaky. He was smart...ish. In other words, he was everything that we needed for my plan - plagiarized from ancient myths - to work.

I appeared in Rhea's chambers, invisible yet again until I was sure she was alone. "My queen," I greeted.

She turned with a smile, more than used to my entrances by now. I showed up now and again to bring news of her son, and to relay her messages of love to him in return. It was, most likely, the most eventful thing that happened to me in the past seventeen years, which was kind of sad. I was starting to understand how Hermes felt, running back and forth to deliver messages and gossip all over Olympus - and Olympus wasn't even made yet!

"My saviour," she replied, ecstatically. (I still hadn't told her my name, so she'd taken to calling me that. It was only a bit annoying.) "Do you bring more news of my beloved baby boy?"

I chuckled. "Zeus is not much of a baby anymore, my lady. In fact, I think he is finally ready to overthrow his father, your husband."

Her eyes lit up even brighter. "Are you certain? How excellent!"

I guess that statement perfectly summed up their marriage. I almost chuckled at what a bad husband Kronos was. Then again, he deserved every bit of her hatred after swallowing _five_ of her children.

"Do you have the mixture?" I asked instead.

Rhea nodded, pulling a small vile from within the folds of her robe. "Metis brewed this up for me especially. She doesn't know who it is for, just that it had to be made strong enough for a Titan - and given how many are in the court, she couldn't possibly guess who." She frowned a little. "Though she probably could, considering I spent the entire time meeting with her complaining about my husband." She shrugged. "Oh, well. She never liked him, anyway."

(I'd like to say that she spent this entire ramble waving the vial around, not even noticing every time I reached for it. After my fifth attempt to grab it, I gave up.)

She handed me the vial, which was now full of bubbles.

"Is this supposed to be shaken?" I asked, feeling a half-grin tug at my cheeks.

Rhea blushed. "No, but it's fine either way."

"Alright." I was gone again.

*******

"Are you sure you know what to do?" I asked, disguised as one of the soldiers. (Marty was fine, just taking a nap while I used his likeness.)

Zeus scowled, snatching up the emetic. "I'm not stupid, you know. Of course I know."

With my hands on my hips, I felt a lot like my mother. "Then you'll find no trouble repeating the plan to me right now, I take it?"

"Um...refresh my memory?"

"That's what I thought." I sighed. "You go in and disguise yourself as the king's cup-bearer. This will be a challenge because Kronos is kind of a paranoid jerk. Then-"

"-Then I add this to his Nectar and give it to him. Got it."

"Yes. You'll slip it into his Nectar and once he drinks it, he'll vomit up your siblings." I shuddered. "Maybe you should bring a towel, too, in case they're still covered in Titan stomach juices."

Zeus shuddered, too, wrinkling his nose. "Gross."

"Tell me about it. You know what? Never mind. Just make sure you get them and take them away from the castle. Then you can plan your counterattack against your father."

He nodded, then turned to leave. The hard set of his jaw and eyebrows told me just how determined he was. He wouldn't fail in his quest. He _would_ save his siblings and he _would_ defeat his father. Then, the world would be saved from his tyranny.

"Good luck," I told him.

"I don't need luck." The boy left without another word.

Of course, I followed him - after depositing Marty's body back in the cave. I no longer needed it where I was going. I floated along, invisible, behind Zeus all the way to the Black Castle, careful to avoid making any noise. For some reason, I had footsteps even without feet; kind of a missed opportunity there...

The young eighteen-year-old god snuck in through one of the servants' entrances that I'd mapped out for him and snuck down the halls with stealth only learned from years of practice. We'd been training him his whole life for this moment - I knew that he wouldn't fail. That meant that he knew exactly when to hide and exactly when to continue walking as servants and Titans wandered the halls, completely ignoring him. He was dressed like just another servant, after all, and no one ever paid attention to a servant who was just on the cusp of manhood. (Then again, they might've even thought that he was younger; Zeus had a bit of a baby-face.)

He found the cup-bearer rather easily, and I recognized him immediately from the detailed descriptions that Rhea provided me with.

"That's the one..." I whispered in his ear.

Zeus nodded and immediately knocked out the poor boy, dragging him into an alcove behind a curtain to strip him of his uniform. When Zeus reemerged, he'd already donned the uniform, and his face flickered from my illusions. The vial in his left hand hung unstoppered so I knew that he'd already added it to the goblet he balanced on his obsidian platter.

I whizzed down the halls after him, silently and unseen like a breeze. Probably a sea breeze, given who my father is - hopefully, it wasn't too strong. Only sons of Poseidon were lucky enough to have B.O. that smelled like _Ocean Winds_ as if it was some cologne.

Before I knew it, we were in the throne room, and I nearly snarled at seeing the familiar room. Last time I was here, I'd heard the Fates declaring this moment, the moment when Zeus stood up against his father and rescued his siblings in open defiance to Kronos' tyrannic rule. This moment would spark the rebellion of the Olympian gods against the powerful (ugly) Titans. Hopefully, just like in the myths, they would win and Olympus would be born.

I knew I couldn't interfere from this point on. I'd put the pieces into play - selected my pawns and knights and rooks, all in my efforts to take down the enemy king, but from now on, I couldn't make another move. My field would play itself, and hopefully, my formation was good enough to win. (I really hoped it would work; I was never any good at chess.)

"My lord," Zeus said in a voice that wasn't his own. He held the obsidian platter up, offering the glittering goblet to his father.

Kronos didn't know that he was the boy's father, though my heart still seized as he glared warily at the goblet as he took it from its perch. He took a whiff, then a sip, and, deeming it fine, he down the whole glass.

For a second, nothing happened.

My heart sank.

What was wrong? Had the elixir not been strong enough? Had the Nectar diluted it too much? Did Rhea's friend even give us an elixir, or was she secretly on Kronos' side all along?

Thankfully, my thoughts ground to a halt, as if a loose screw had gotten stuck in the gears of my mind because Kronos suddenly doubled over. The goblet slipped from his hand. When he looked up, his face had turned an ugly shade of green.

I grinned.


	18. The Unknown

If you've ever thrown up before, or seen someone through up before, let me tell you, watching Kronos puking his guts out was far worse. He was coughing and retching, sending bits and bile all over the glossy black floor. He gagged continuously as if making a show of it.

The first thing that came up was probably his breakfast, or perhaps something else that involved human bones and blood. Ewwww.

The next thing that appeared was the most ironic thing in the history of Greece - the stone that Rhea and I had tricked him into eating. He must've been so confused, but his puking didn't allow him to wonder when he'd eaten a rock. He'd barely gotten the chance to sputter, "what...?" before doubling over to hurl again.

My father came next. Then Hades. Then Demeter and Hera. Surprisingly - and luckily - they weren't covered in vomit as I'd expected. They came out perfectly clean and dry, right down to the baby blankets that had turned into tiny togas for the gods, who were still the size of babies, even though they'd matured into their teenage forms whilst inside the Mad Titan's stomach. As soon as they were out on the floor, though, they grew, and as soon as Hestia was freed from their prison, all six of the original Olympians stood together, all in their late teens or early twenties.

Kronos coughed a bit more, but nothing more would come up. I shuddered. Ewwwww again. The gods were staring down at their father, as if not believing that they were free. Demeter was even looking around in awe of the world. I guess living inside your father's stomach for the first two decades of your life does nothing for your frequent flyer miles. Talk about Most Terrible Parent of the Year.

Then, Kronos fainted.

He crumpled out of his throne like a puppet with his strings cut, right into the puddle of his own vomit. Ha! Serves him right!

"Follow me!" Zeus shouted to his siblings. He was already at one of the side doors.

His five siblings all looked at each other and I could almost hear their combined thoughts like Who on Gaea is this guy? Of course, they all knew each other, but Zeus was never swallowed, so I guess they didn't know that he was their youngest brother - the only one that their mother apparently loved enough not to let him get eaten (at least, that's probably what they would think).

They followed him nonetheless after one last glance at their father, which was probably for the best since the commotion had attracted a few servants and Titans to the throne room. The servants' door just closed behind Hera when the first Titan burst into the throne room.

"Find the intruders!"

I just left them to their hide and seek. I trusted Zeus to lead himself and his siblings out of the Black Castle through the route that we laid out for him. He would get them all back to the caves where he grew up.

By the time they got back, I was already lounging - still invisible, of course - on a rock. And let me tell you, it's really hard to find a comfortable position to lounge on a rock. Why couldn't they have invented Tempurpedic back in Ancient Greece?

Zeus and the others gathered around his rough-hewn wooden table, where a map of the castle was already drawn out. He moved some pieces around, looking very much like some of the generals from my time in World War II. If only he didn't look up with a nervous expression on his face.

"So, are you going to tell us who you are, or do we have to guess?" Hera asked as she turned her nose up at Zeus.

"I'm your brother," he said. "Our mother tricked Kronos into eating a rock instead, then she had me snuck out of the castle. I've been living here, training for the past eighteen years until I was ready to break you guys out so we can take Kronos off the throne."

Hades crossed his arms. "And we're supposed to believe that?"

"Um..." Zeus bit his lower lip. "Yes? I mean, I did save you and all."

There seemed to be a bit of tension between the oldest and youngest sons, when suddenly Poseidon butted in between them, wrapping an arm around each. He had the widest smile on his face and his hair was as wild as his eyes.

"In that case," said the future sea god, "Welcome to the family! Thanks for saving our hinds back there, and we'll be glad to help defeat father!" He sent glances at the rest of his siblings, smile dropping for just a second into a challenging look.

"Of course," Demeter agreed. "If you are our brother, then we must all band together to remove our father from his throne. He has ruled these lands for far too long with his tyranny."

"Besides, it is our destiny." The rest turned to Hestia, who'd just spoken. Her voice was soft and kind, a lot like how I remembered it from that campfire we'd had years back (forward?). "Mother told me of the prophecy before father swallowed me. We are destined to overthrow father and cast him into oblivion for his crimes against the world, just like he did to his father."

"Excellent point!" Zeus said, wrestling his way out from under Poseidon's arm. "And seeing as I was the one who saved you, I shall lead this quest."

"Hey! Wait just a minute!" Hera shouted. She pushed Zeus back with one finger, advancing on him. "You're the youngest one here! One of us should be in charge."

Zeus began shouting back at Hera with reasons why he should be the one in charge - mainly because he had been training for this his whole life and without him, they'd still be rotting away in their father's stomach, but I tuned them out at this point. I had nothing to do, no part in this part of the play, so to speak. At this point, I'd already put all of the pieces that I needed into play, moving them together, forward and backward to line them up facing victory. From now on, it's on them to keep the past intact. Then again, obviously, there was still something that I was expected to do, or else I would've jumped already. I tuned back into the conversation just as Hades shouted, interrupting the quarrelling future couple.

"Stop it already! At this point, it doesn't matter who is our leader because we won't win the battle if we just march in there like this. There are only six of us and who knows how many dozens of minor warriors outside. We don't have the power to take down our father and all of his forces. The Titans are just too strong."

"Good point!" Zeus said. "I've planned for this!" He bent down to pull up another large scroll, slamming it down on the table over the other one. He unrolled the thick parchment, showing a rough sketch of six ugly creatures. "We must go to Tartarus first!"

"What? Are you mad?" Hera cried.

"No. I believe that our little brother is right," Hestia said. "We've seen and heard everything that father has seen and heard these past eighteen years. We know that he imprisoned the Hecatonchires and the Cyclopes because he found them too ugly to look upon. These six do not deserve the fate bestowed upon them; it is only right for us to free them."

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why Hestia is the smartest of the siblings. Also because she is the oldest, even though they all sort of have the same life experience.

Either way, they were going to Tartarus, which I opted out of because one, it's not something on my bucket list, and two, did I mention is was Tartarus? Home of all monsters? Yeah, I thought so. If I didn't have to go and I didn't want to go, I wasn't going. I would just stay right in Zeus' man-cave until they got back with their new, super-powered weapons and super-powered allies. I'm totally not going to be a helicopter son and hover over my father as he proves himself by slaying Kampe - the prison master and jailor of the six large non-Titan children of the earth and sky.

It took them a whole week to get back, emerging from the eternal darkness of pain and suffering with a few cuts and scratches but armed with the Master Bolt, the Trident, and the Helm of Darkness.

I was about to get closer when a thread of ice slithered up into my ear. It was the voices of the three Fates, whispering to me. "You were not meant to meddle, young hero. Time has wrapped itself around you in a cloak, so entwined with your life and soul that you have transcended the mortal plane, transcended godhood. We do not know what you are anymore, and this frightens us."

Just like that, they were gone, taking their ominous warnings with them. It seemed they dragged me along, too, because I suddenly found myself falling when I was sure there was solid ground beneath just a second ago. I fell through the air quickly, falling to the ground just as Hyperion struck with his spear. The tip buried itself in the solid rock just left of my face.

How had he seen me?

I looked up, just noticing that he wasn't aiming at me; he was aiming at Hades, who was emerging from the shadows just ten feet away.

The final battle between the Titans and the Gods was waging.

I was in a large valley, stripped barren by the powerful forces of nature at war. On one side, across the dirt and low shrubs and mounds of defences, I could see Zeus commanding his scant army of gods, Cyclopes, Hecatonchires, and spear-wielding warriors. With his Master-Bolt, Zeus sent bolts of lightning into the melee below, striking down the Titans and their minions in patches. On the other side, where Zeus' lightning zapped, were Kronos and his troops, all fighting side-by-side with mad eyes and vicious snarls. Iapetus wielded his spear with such ease that it put Thalia to shame, going mono a mono with my father and his trident.

Then, I wasn't on the ground anymore; I was suddenly at Zeus' side. He grumbled as he overlooked the battle, leaning heavily on a large boulder as he recovered from his multiple strikes against the enemy.

"We've been fighting for almost a decade now against father," he muttered to Hestia, who approached with gentle hands outstretched.

"Rest, brother," she advised, ignoring his comment. Her hands glowed slightly, and squares of ambrosia appeared in them, "Here. Eat. Regain your strength."

Zeus shoved the first square into his mouth and mashed it with his teeth. He wasn't even really chewing at all as he inhaled the godly nutrition. His whole body glowed just enough so that I could see, and when he dimmed, the colour had returned to his face and sweat had evaporated from his brow, yet the exhaustion in his expression remained. I guess it wasn't something that ambrosia could heal.

Lifting his Master Bolt, I saw another bolt rip down from the heavens with an earthshaking crash, sending several dozen Titan warriors flying; a few of them looked well-done and extra crispy.

"We've been fighting well, brother," Hestia said. "Be proud that we have lasted this long with our small force."

"How can I be proud, sister? Ten years and neither of us have taken a grasp at victory! I'm starting to think that we will end up destroying the world before either of us can claim it. Father will never be stopped!"

"Get a hold of yourself!" Hestia snapped. "We must have hope! We will find a way to defeat father and his forces. We will save this world from his tyranny. You have to believe that we will."

Zeus sighed. "Yeah. Yeah, I know." he leaned against the boulder again, this time out of stress, not strain. His forehead pressed against the rough surface for just a moment before he backed away. Where his forehead as been, sweat now trickled down the rock. He must've seen something there, because a new, brilliant smile suddenly lit up his face, and for the first time, I saw the resemblance between him and his future son, Apollo. "I have an idea! Gather the Hundred-Handed Ones!"

The Hundred-Handed Ones, an army all on their own, were in the middle of fighting against some of the larger, minor Titans. A few of them were called back from the battle by Zeus, where he laid out his plan to stop Kronos once and for all. They would craft chains - strong and powerful golden chains that would hold Kronos. These chains could not break, and they would have to be crafted quickly because, without the Hundred-Handed Ones to fight, the Titans would surely be able to tip the balance in their favour.

Once the chains were forged, Hades would use his Helm of Darkness to sneak them into the enemy base - the Black Castle atop Mount Orthus - where he and Poseidon would capture their father and hold him in these chains.

Of course, it all went according to plan - as most things did for the gods when they were fighting for a unified cause. When they were fighting each other, well, let's just say things don't go this smoothly.

The two elder brothers had their father in chains at the base of his throne. Zeus stood in front of him, hands gripping the shaft of the scythe that his father had used so many centuries ago to slice up Ouranos, his own father.

"Don't do this, boy!" Kronos growled. "You will regret it!"

"Shut up!" Poseidon shouted, swinging his arm to wrap another layer of chains around his father, thin time through his teeth.

Now unable to speak. Kronos could only watch with wide eyes as Zeus fulfilled the Fates' prophecy, chopping his father up into a thousand pieces. Together, he and his two brothers cast each of Kronos' pieces into the depths of Tartarus, never to be found again (if only they knew).

Without their leader, the Titan army fell quickly to the gods, some fleeing, some rounded up, and some surrendering, but just being put in chains anyway. The battle was just wrapping itself up with a neat little bow.

Once the battle was over, I looked out at the sunset. It was beautiful, but I knew that my time had come. I would jump again; I could feel it coming. And, or once, I didn't wonder where I was going to end up. I didn't wish that I could go home.

"Take me to where I'm needed," I whispered into the divine abyss.

I closed my eyes, waiting for the familiar vacuum feeling of the time vortex...but it didn't come. My eyes snapped open. I was still in ancient Greece, staring out at the sunset. The anticipation of a time jump - a feeling like sitting in a jet-plane waiting for takeoff - just settled in the pit of my stomach, warming me from within.

I wasn't being pulled anywhere. I was no longer resisting, and the noose loosened from around my neck. Perhaps this is what I needed the entire time.

Closing my eyes again, I was no longer bracing myself. I was searching. Something deep within chimed like a church bell, a low ringing like a giant cowbell being rung against my ribcage. Opening my eyes, I knew where I was needed. I knew when I was needed. With a smile, I jumped forward, off the cliff's edge, and a time vortex opened below me. I happily greeted it.


	19. Epilogue

***Hephaestus' Point of View***

Finally, Typhon had fallen. Poseidon's tidal waves rose around him in grasping arms to drag the ugly monstrosity back down to the Pit he'd crawled out of. Good riddance, I'll say. His face was sure only one a mother could love - and if I'm saying that, you know it's true (I'm not oblivious to what people say about me).

Now all that was left was to stop Kronos - my grandfather. Perhaps we could've taken him - if we hadn't had to fight Typhon first. He was already in the throne room, that much we could tell, but what happened after that was left to mystery. We'd find out soon enough, rushing through the deteriorating golden streets of Olympus toward what was left of the main hall.

I wasn't the first to reach the doors, obviously, but seeing as we were all ragged and heaving from our fight against Typhon, I wasn't left too far behind with my limp. Zeus slammed the doors open, and from behind Athena's head, I could see a vortex of some sort vanishing from the center of the room. It was purple, swirling in the air like frozen yogurt - which was then met with the heat of the Apollo's convertible because it melted into oblivion.

I pushed through to the front, ignoring Apollo's gasp of indignation. He could go to the back - I was the shortest one here! (Aside from Hestia, who was eight.)

The sight before me was quite underwhelming, though, and for a second I couldn't put to reason why I'd pushed to the front. It was just a couple of demigods in a room that had once been whole, now resembling swiss cheese more than the throne room of Olympus. The two demigods appeared to be a daughter of Athena and a son of Hermes, and Hermes' son seemed a bit worse for wear. He was lying limp in the Athena girl's arms, and she was staring, dead-eyed into the abyss where the frozen-yogurt portal had just disappeared. Maybe her face had melted a bit, too, like the portal, because the liquid streaming down her cheeks couldn't have possibly all come from her eyes.

"What happened?" Zeus asked.

The girl - Annabelle or something? - just choked and doubled over, wailing like she'd been struck in the gut. The only thing that dampened her sobs was the Hermes' boy's armour, as she buried her face in his chest.

Was he dead?

I couldn't think about that for long because suddenly Poseidon screamed, too.

"My son!" He ran forward, grasping at the air where purple puffs of smoke still hovered from the portal as if gathering them together would bring the boy back. What had happened to Perseus? I was actually quite fond of that boy; he made for excellent ratings on my TV station.

An echoing laugh hissed through the crevices of the room, settling in my ear canals like a fungus. I shuddered. For all that I tried, I failed at locating its source; it was everywhere.

"You've failed to save the boy!" a deep voice cackled, following the laughter.

I'd never heard the voice, but it sounded oddly familiar, and not in a good way. Like the creepy uncle you'd met at a family reunion way back when you were first born, but then weren't allowed to see ever again, only for him to come back when you were in your mid-forties with two kids. (I'd never had that experience, as a god, but for some reason, mortal television gives a lot of insightful background on things like that.)

As the voice faded, Athena approached her daughter. The poor girl was still hiccoughing irregularly; I recognized her as the girl who was caught in my wife-and-boy-toy trap a few years back at that abandoned water park with Perseus. They went way back; perhaps they were close; it sure seemed like it.

"Annabeth, what happened here?" Athena asked.

(Ha! I knew the girl's name was Anna-something!)

Annabeth's chest heaved a few more times as she struggled to regulate her breathing. When she did open her mouth, it was to stutter out only a few words. "He...he's gone. P-Percy is... he's gone!" Then, she shuddered, hit by a whole new wave of sobs. "H-he cursed h-him! He said he'd be lost-lost to the s-sands of time!" After that, there were no more words to be gotten from her.

Poseidon was in a similar state of disarray. His only son was gone - without a trace - to a curse bestowed by his own father - who'd only managed to rise because of our negligence. He was kneeling on the cracked marble, ignoring Hestia, who was whispering what I could only assume to be comforting words into his ear.

I guess this was it. In standing against Kronos, the boy suffered one of the ultimate punishments, lost to the stream of time forevermore. How long would he survive without immortality? Surely, the effects of time travel would put a severe strain on his mind and body, leaving him as an empty shell.

"Agh!" Pain shot through my skull from the downward swing of an invisible axe. Somewhere in my head, a tiny man started playing an old-time film tape, filtering new memories behind my eyes. These memories were of a mysterious demigod from thousands of years ago, back when the gods first fought the giants. He...was Perseus - black hair and sea-green eyes, with the same mannerisms and skills with a sword. He'd been the boy out of time from the prophecy...then had disappeared without a trace into a portal just like the one we just saw.

It was so clear to me, even as my old memories faded away to give room for these new ones, like pictures burning all in a row on a wire. Perseus had been sent back in time by Kronos - to do what? Perhaps mess up the time stream to destroy the very fabric of reality. Who knew?

"Perseus..." I heard Zeus whisper, making my head snap up. He and the other gods were in similar states as me, clutching their heads and staring into the middle distance with wide eyes, unseeing of the world around them - more focused on the new stream of images flashing through their minds. Fire and steel forged these new memories, though I was stressed to have such things affect me; they were my elements, after all.

Zeus spun from where he'd been tending his throne. "You! Girl! What _exactly_ happened here? Where did that Poseidon-spawn go?"

Annabeth shuddered again, but it wasn't her who spoke.

"I think the question you want to ask, father, is not _where,_ but _when_ ," Artemis said. "It seems that in his rage, the Crooked One cursed young Perseus to be lost within time, being transported to several important moments within history. In a past time, while he was in my custody, he admitted to me that this is what happened - I remember this now - and that he does not know how or why it is happening."

Zeus jerked his head swiftly downward. "I see. Well...there's nothing we can do about it, now - only wait. We should resume fixing our thrones and reward our brave demigods for fighting at our sides."

"My son needs a proper burial," Hermes said.

"Of course," Zeus agreed amicably, shocking us all. What? How could he be so nice? He was never nice. Maybe in changing history, Percy had interfered one too many times.

Then again, I feel that Poseidon would much rather have his son back than have his brother be nicer to him. My poor uncle was still collapsed, frozen on the floor where he'd first fallen. His arms were wrapped around his torso, no longer meaninglessly grasping at the air, but instead hugging his absent son to his chest. His son...who was lost to the eternal river, beyond even the Fates' grasp.

I hadn't known him well, but from what I do know, he will only continue to help Olympus, no matter where or when he shows up. Perhaps one day he'll return to us, but for now, he was just a man lost in time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter and the sequel is up for grabs. If any of our readers would like to continue the story please DM us when you post the first chapter CSP2708 and I would like to read it and see you are doing the story justice. Thank you for reading


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